


Adventures of a King and a Rebel

by Roselucksky



Category: Splatoon, Splatoon 2, coroika - Fandom
Genre: Adventure, Enemies to Lovers, Getting to Know Each Other, M/M, Multi, Mystery (?), Slow Burn, but uh yeah hero mode story! sorta!, comedy aspects included ofc, i just tagged really hard at random so whilst the story develops i may add or remove stuff, its a work in progress, may get canon divergent from hero mode of splat2, oh also prepare for many hcs, omega and vintage are siblings and you cant convince me otherwise, or you can easily intepret this as friendship, purhaps
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:40:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 25,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24710971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roselucksky/pseuds/Roselucksky
Summary: The one day Emperor slept in, his brother and the entirety of his old team went missing. he would think they were just out practicing if it wasn't for Vintage both being a victim of the same issue, and recieving an ominous text from Omega... will the two be able to work together to find their lost friends, or will Marie be stuck with two arguing idiots and a looming headache?
Relationships: Emperor/Vintage (Splatoon), Gloves/Prince (Splatoon), Goggles/Hachi (splatoon), Goggles/Hachi | Eight/Rider (Splatoon), Goggles/Rider (Splatoon), Goggles/Rider/Hachi (splatoon), Laceless/Prince (Splatoon), will add or remove with the way things go I'm still in the process of thinking
Comments: 3
Kudos: 44





	1. Late-day Toast!

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, first coroika story! I kinda plan things as i go along, so bear with me, and i hope you enjoy this!

Emperor awoke from a restful sleep, body heavy against the cool sheets of his bed. Today, he wanted to do more training, and by the look of some texts on his phone, Prince was even more eager to start the day. 

Prince: Goodmorning!

Prince: Are you awake yet?

Prince: guess not hehe ^^;

Prince: Well, I’m going to be practicing with our team early. Laceless got up even earlier, so i don’t want to keep him waiting! He gets pretty nervous on his own still.

Prince: I’m gonna make myself breakfast. I’ll meet you at the square whenever you get up tho!

Emperor smiles, and sits up, still stretching his tired limbs. He taps his screen, and types his response.

Emperor: thank you for letting me know. It seems I’ve slept in today… 

Emperor: I’ll be there soon. I hope you’ve had a pleasant day so far ^^

With that, Emperor takes his time getting ready for his day. He contemplated what he wanted, whether it be practice with his first team, Hanging with Blue team, or more job searching to better himself. He styled his hair, brushed teeth, failed at cooking himself breakfast, and then left the house snacking on a burnt piece of cinnamon toast. He figured he’d just buy from his old workplace when he got the chance, if it were open that day. 

Lost in thought as he eats his toast, He doesn’t notice the squid that rapidly approached, too focused on running to pay attention to Emperor’s walking. The two collide, and almost fall if Emperor didn’t have fast reflexes to make up for the lack of awareness. He catches the Inkling by the sleeve before he falls, steadying them both. Ah, it was Vintage. 

“What’s with the rush?” Emperor questions him. 

Vintage tugs his sleeve out of Emperor’s grasp, giving him a glare. “What makes us friends enough for me to tell you?” 

Vintage slowed his pace though, so Emperor kept up behind him, still munching down the last piece of his bread.

“I assume you’re just eager to throw yourself into training for a rematch or something. You seem like the type. But it’s late in the day, so you’ve obviously been running late like I am.” Emperor guessed, swallowing that last bit of food as he watches the inkling’s shoulder’s tense.

With no retaliation still, Emperor carries on the one-sided conversation out of spite. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of. It’s not like we can’t have off days from time to time. I’d treat you some late-day toast if you wouldn’t gag at the sight of it. Are you a toast person, Vintage?”

“Shut. up.” Vintage mutters. 

“What a ray of sunshine. Maybe you should become a motivational speaker.” Emperor teases. 

As they walk into the square and look around, Emperor feels a strange sense of unease. As he stands by the entrance, he sees many squids sticking in groups, whispering to each other, glancing around in a nervous way. He watches curiously as Vintage, too, picks up on the wrong feeling. He now realizes the bowl cut squid had intended to meet with his team, all of which seemed to be absent. He watched Vintage scare two squids out of a table, sit down and text furiously. 

Well, not furiously, Emperor soon realized. It was an angry sort of fear, as if he’s been over the fact that he hates these kinds of jokes. Emperor wanders by the table, feeling compelled to text his own teammates to see if they were okay. He anxiously waits, especially considering calling Prince. As soon as he makes the decision, he sees Vintage do the same, muttering softly, c’mon, c’mon…

The dial tone filled the empty air between them. No answer from either who were called. 

“C’mon… Why aren’t you answering? You always answer… what the hell…?” Vintage growled at the device. 

The two spend time trying. Prince’s lack of answer worries Emperor as well. Finally, a notification from Vintage’s phone breaks the dead, dial tone air. Much too curious for his own good, Emperor peers over Vintage’s shoulder.

Omega: Stop calling. We’re in danger.

For a moment, Emperor could’ve swore he saw Vintage’s hands tremble. Emperor himself felt a bit nauseous. He scans the crowd, looking for faces he knew. No blue team. No Gloves staring at store posters. No S4, not even rider, if anything, bits and pieces of their teams conversing, carrying the same worry, but no signs. 

“What does that mean? You… you have to be joking…” Vintage mutters to himself, definitely becoming less aware of those around. Emperor glanced peeks at his rapid texts as he keeps his eyes on the crowd. He was half looking for any sign of prince or his team, half looking for suspicious figures.

Vintage: what the hell?

Vintage: What do you mean? Where are you? 

Vintage: Red if you have Omega’s phone and you’re screwing around I’m going to kill you

Vintage: this isn’t funny

Omega: Not Joking.

Omega: Battery’s near dead.

Omega: Don’t get caught. I’ll try to get us all out.

Omega: [picture]

Omega: take care.

Vintage quickly taps the picture. The full image is Omega, presumably hiding her squidphone with her body, but getting a clear shot of the surroundings. From there, they can see several cages, all with clear glass fronts. Red sole is attempting to lockpick the lock on their cage, while on the other side of the hall, Emperor can just barely make out Prince, arms around an inkling in the same gear, seeming to do his best to comfort him. 

Before Emperor can even fully process it, Vintage darkens the screen. He swore under his breath, while Emperor needed a moment to steady himself, absentmindedly grabbing the back of Vintage’s chair. That alerts him to Emperor’s presence, and he glares back at him.

“So you saw that too.” Vintage growls, “Don’t suppose you’ve got any powerful enemies…” 

“None that I know have personal problems with me. But…” Emperor ponders, searching his memory, “I remember talking to Rider. He talked a lot about a job that put him in charge of defending inkopolis. That it would attack indiscriminately until he beat it alongside Goggles of all inklings. Something to that effect. Perhaps they’ve decided they wanted to get even. And our teams were unwilling captives to this plan.”

“Great. It sounds like I’m tearing through some wealkings to get my sister and team back.” Vintage says.

Suddenly, the smaller squid is on his feet, grabbing Emperor’s shirt collar, trying to intimidate. 

“What else do you know? Tell me.” Vintage growls.

“There is a strange place they come from.” Emperor motions to the Grate in the corner of the square, ever vacant. “I’d be suspicious if Goggles alone said it, but Rider confirmed it. It’s likely we’ll find our answers jumping into that sewer grate."

Vintage stares up for a moment, seeming to search for any semblance of a lie. When he can’t detect anything, he lets go of Emperor’s shirt, turning on his heel and moving quickly to the grate as the Inkopolis news jingle echoes around the square. Emperor barely pays attention to it as he follows along. The two stop at the grate in question. Vintage stares down.

“If this is a joke, I’ll make you eat that earring of yours.” Vintage threatened.

“I wouldn’t joke about it. Prince is in trouble, too.” Emperor replies. 

With this, the two take a jump. For a moment, Emperor feels the world turn on its head, and for a moment he can’t discern which way is up or down. Then, he and vintage land in another place, making a not so graceful landing on the ground. To make it a little worse, Vintage landed on top of him, causing just a bit more pain.

“Thanks for that.” Emperor mumbles.

Vintage rolls off of him, getting a good look at their surroundings. “Well, it looks like i don’t have a good reason to drown you in sewage. Wonder where we are.” 

“Well, You two weren’t who I was expecting. Welcome, I guess.” Someone spoke.

The two stand, and see an older inkling lady with white tentacles, wearing a kimono and twirling a green umbrella distractedly.

The two pause and watch her, both glaring suspiciously.

“Try not to be star struck, really. I know it’s hard in the presence of a celebrity-

“Who are you?” Emperor interjects, tilting his head to the side.

“Are you an idiot? That’s Marie. She used to be one of the big idols before Off the hook took over. Personally I liked Callie better, but some idiot persuaded me to vote for you in your final fest. Nice to meet you, I suppose.” Vintage says.

Marie squinted. “You sure seem like a ray of sunshine.”

Vintage shrugs, and Emperor reaches out to shake her hand. In her mind, Marie saw these two as socially incompetent weirdos, but still… she needed all the help she could get.

“Well, since the squids I usually get help from are no-shows, how would you two like to help me out a bit? If you guys are any bit competent at turf, it should be a breeze, and you’ll get gear out of it.” Marie says. 

“I don’t have time for stupid things. My sister is missing.” Vintage replies.

“As is my brother. I’d love to help you, but I need to find him first.” Emperor says, gently letting go of the hand he was shaking this entire time.

“But wait! That’s just it!” Marie replies, “Callie is missing, too. You must’ve come here on a hunch, right? It’s entirely possible our enemies are the same.”

“Well then.” Vintage says, taking his phone out and bringing the photo up to show her, “Does any part of this seem like your enemy’s territory?” 

Marie studies the picture closely, humming a bit. “It definitely seems like octarian tech that’s been used to contain them. Something feels a slight bit off, but at the very least I’m sure of that. Our enemies appear to be the same.”

“Hm… didn’t octarians go extinct after the war, though?” Emperor says.

“Emperor.” Vintage says. 

“Vintage?” 

“What do you think Hachi and his team are?”

“...fashionable.”

“What do you think Marina is?” 

“A good singer. Very smart, too.” 

After a few moments of silence and staring between the two, Vintage begins to raise his hand up, ready to smack the idiot in front of him. Marie closes her umbrella, and uses it to make Vintage lower his hand.

“Emperor, is it? That was more a government lie. They’re still alive, just underground.” Marie explains. 

“Ah, I see.” Emperor says. 

“Marina and Hachi both came up from the underground. In fact, a lot of octolings have cropped up. Understand now?” Vintage ads condescendingly.

“I do. No need to speak to me with that tone.” Emperor says.

Vintage turns his attentions back on Marie. “Anyways, i suppose that means we should follow this lead for now. You mentioned something about special gear?”

Marie smiles, and beckons them to follow. “Yep. right this way, boys.”

Within a few moments, both Vintage and Emperor given their agent clothes. Emperor simply wears them happily while Vintage manages to fit his favorite sweater over the reflective agent coat. 

“Alright, lookin’ good. Just to not make the same mistakes as last time, We’ll use my Gramp’s traditional number system. Emperor, you’re agent 4, and Vintage is agent 4.5. I’ll refer to you as such over the radio’s in your headsets, okay?” Marie says.

“Wait, why agent 4.5? Wouldn’t 5 make more sense? Our vests aren’t even the same, mine’s light pink.” Vintage asks.

“Consider it traditional when 2 squids show up for the main job. It was the other’s assigning numbers anyway, they just both decided on not using the system.” Marie says.

“You mentioned that choice was a mistake. What happened to the real 4 and 4.5?” Emperor asks.

Marie’s expression changed for a moment, and she twirled her umbrella as she tried to think of an answer.

“I’ll tell you after you do some missions for me, okay? Let’s get you outfitted with some weapons.” Marie decides.

The two squids follow her over to a locked box, and once in front she asks, “What’s your favorite weapon class?” 

“Dualies.”

“Splattling.”

The two boys are presented with fully upgraded hero weapons of their choice. The two spend some time marveling at the designs alone.

“What an elegant weapon~” Emperor remarks.

“You make these?” Vintage asks.

“Of course not. Sheldon made them, 3.5 painted, tested and collected materials for them, and 8 modified them to get top performance out of them. In fact, 8 might come back later to do some fine tuning and upkeep for them. It would be good for you to get acquainted since Sheldon is away on some sorta quest with agent 3 or something. I dunno the details.” Marie answers.

“Which one of those is rider?” Emperor asks.

“Ehhh… 3.5 is. But seriously, let’s stop guessing names around here, 4. I really don’t know if anyone is listening in...” Marie says.

“Why are you exempt from the rule, by the way?” Vintage asks.

“The other 4.5 asked the same thing. Now my answer is that I’m older and it’s less of a risk for me to do so. Now, how about we get started?” Marie asks.

“Sure, I’m ready. 4.5?” Emperor says.

“Yeah, sure… 4. I’m not losing to you.” Vintage replies.

“What does that mean?”

“It means I’m certain i can do a better job then you can.”

“Implying the saving of our siblings and friends is a competition is rather foolish.”

“We’re bound to go through enemy territory. In that case, I’m going to do that part faster and better than you.”

“Says the sore loser. But alright, I’ll accept your childish challenge.”

On their way to their first briefing, Marie can’t help but feel a headache coming on as she listens to their arguing. It was hard to pull them out of it, and gently lowering Vintage’s raised fists with her umbrella only worked as a de-escalating precaution for so long until they found their first kettle to send them through. As she got back to base and guided them through via radio setup, she couldn’t help but find herself missing the kind of atmosphere callie and agent 3 brought.

She reaches to open her laptop, and opens the messaging app Dj Hyperfresh, aka Marina, had set up for the agents to talk in. she clicks into the chatroom in which she uses to message both the 3’s.

Agent 2: Agent 3, be sure to stop by the base from time to time. 

Agent 2: i’ve got some new guys and they’re a whole new headache -_-;

Agent 3: Aw! Srry! I think I’m gonna be out w sheldon longer than i realized >n<

Agent 3: why not get Prince and Gloves to help out? I’m sure they can handle showing the new 5’s the ropes!

Agent 2: well… that’s a whole new problem. They… may have become captives too. And i havent heard from 3.5 in a while either, so… who knows the situation with him.

Agent 3: oh now i REALLY wish I was there!!!

Agent 3: i hope Rider isn’t in a goop situation again :(((

Agent 3: Have you heard from hachi at least?

Agent 2: I have, thankfully! I’m gonna brief him on the situation too when he gets here later.

Agent 3: thank goodness ^^

Agent 3: is it just gloves and prince gone?

Agent 2: by the look of 4.5’s picture, they thoroughly tracked the two and got their teams. Even our girl that was helping with scroll archiving…

Agent 3: Omega, huh… I hope you guys rescue Callie and everyone soon!!

Agent 3: it rlly sucks that Octavio doesn’t feel like sharing anymore :(

Agent 2: he’s a real stick in the mud like that. Don’t take it too personally, he’s just losing followers to the coolness of inkopolis.

Agent 3: I guess… give him a piece of my mind for me!!!

Agent 3: I’m gonna try and contact Rider. I rlly want him to be okay… and tell me when you’re done telling Hachi!! I wanna talk to him too and i don’t trust myself to not drop this stuff on him.

Agent 2: i will. Good luck, agent 3.

Agent 3: you too!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://roselucksky.tumblr.com/post/620966759258849280/nobodys-gonna-see-this-at-this-time-f-read-my
> 
> ^A lil special something. end of the chapter bonus!


	2. Treasure Trails Lead to...?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let's check in on our captured party. how many inklings got captured?
> 
> also, counting how many pages a normal person could get through in a chapter is hard. s. seven pages? eight? ten? i don't want to overwhelm anyone, or get too off topic... but i think that's enough chat! i hope you enjoy the chapter! i couldn't leave my favorites out of a coroika story...

“C’mon! Stupid!! Dumb!!! Glass!!!!” Red Sole shouted, kicking the prison door in question rapidly.

“I don’t think it’s going anywhere.” Omega pointed out. 

“I know that!” Red yells, sighing as she falls back, “This is so stupid… what did we even do?” 

“Well, you didn’t do anything.” Omega replies, glancing to the side, “I did, though. I guess they’re the ‘deem guilty by association’ type.”

“Woah, really? What did you do, steal babies?” Red asks.

“What? No, I just did a little Archiving job. I would venture into octarian territories to retrieve old documents and keep them in a scrapbook. They’re not fond of outsiders, and I wouldn’t bring weapons so I could keep under their radar. I was followed, I guess, and that’s how they found you guys.” Omega answered.

“Oh. damn. But why get mad over some musty paper?” Red asks.

“Hell if I know. It’s probably about secrets they don’t want anyone knowing… and if I go missing, others follow, so they were likely after any and all people that could potentially want to find me.” Omega says.

“I guess that makes sense. They’re stupid for messin’ with us though. Once I get my Blobolobber back I’m gonna drown those weird jerks in bubbles!” Red says.

“Let’s work on an escape plan, first. And if we can’t escape, exhibit good behavior so nobody decides we should be treated worse.” Omega replies, taking a seat against the wall.

Red sighs, and glances across the hallway to the cell holding one of their former turf opponents. She was glad it seemed like she didn’t have to watch the anxious one cry; the boy seemed to be getting cozy with his leader to keep his mind off the situation. Good for him, she thought. When said leader glances her way, she smirks and gives him a thumbs up, which makes the inkling blush yellow before looking elsewhere. She chuckles to herself, before settling down on her knees and seeing what else she could see from their cell.

“I wonder how many inklings got pulled into this. Seems they only put two people to a cage.” Red muses.

“Well, Rider tried to save me before. Emphasis on tried, so it’s likely a lot. Especially if you think about the team network that he’s got…” Omega says.

“Damn. that’s a lot of people that might care.” Red mumbles.

“Yeah.” Omega sighs, “I just… hope they’re alright.” 

…

_ Earlier that day…  _

Bobble skipped along on her early morning walk. Goggles explained that he was on a trip, and Emperor wasn’t answering her texts, so she figured team practice wasn’t happening today. She figured that she should text Glasses to confirm that, but she felt like finishing her walk first. She couldn’t help the nagging feeling that she’d find something…

Heck, it’s not every day she decides to walk so early. 

So onward she treks. After a few minutes, she notices something colorful on the ground. She walks over and picks it up! Finders keepers, and she knew she went on this walk to find something! But hmm, there was something strange about the weird little cartoon crab. She remembered seeing this somewhere… wasn’t this someone’s?

Swinging the metal loop around her finger, she glances around at her surroundings. She was right in front of a house, so perhaps this belonged to them? She took a longer glance at the house, and noticed on one of the higher windows there was a little decorative word string that read “party!” in bright, colorful letters. And just like that, she has her answer! Of course, this must be Aloha’s, her mind tells her! He probably dropped it just outside his house on his way home last night, and this was his house! She takes a picture of the keychain and house, just to remember to tell her story later. With that, she walks up to the door of the little house and knocks.

“Knock knock!” Bobble says to herself.

No answer. She knocks harder.

“Alooohaaa! Knock knock!” Bobble calls out. No answer.

“I’m gonna keep the pretty keychain if you don’t answer.” she murmurs softly. Still nothing.

She humms sofly, glancing up again. Yes, his window was wide open, so he should hear her just fine.

“Are you a heavy sleeper or something?” Bobble calls out, hands cupped towards the open window. Nothing still.

She sighs. Knowing it was his, and how he twisted Rider’s arm over getting a replacement when he broke the first one, she wanted to get this back to him. It matters so much to him, she’s sure! She sighs, smiles to herself, and dons her ink tank and slosher. She inks up the wall to Aloha’s open window. She figured she could leave it on his nightstand with a note, as was the proper thing to do. She pockets the charm, goes squid form, and swims up the wall, landing on the narrow window pane. With relative ease, she successfully slips into his room. Once inside, she’s treated to quite the scene.

Not only did it seem that he wasn’t there, it looked like there was a crazy amount of damage to his stuff! His bed was a mess, some posters were torn and a lot of no doubt expensive tentacle care products were broken open, and most worrying of all, there was a decoratively framed photo of pink team in the middle of the floor, glass smashed to pieces. Not to mention, the place smelt  _ different _ than Aloha smelt. Rather than his scent of sunscreen and tropical perfume, it smelt like car oil and dirt. 

In the heavy silence of a compromised room, Bobble’s smile, ever so slightly, drops. She opens her eyes fully, and takes a better look around, spotting things that only confirm her worry. She crouches down, and reaches for the photo on the ground. And in that moment, she was putting herself in the place of those worried friends posing in the photo around Aloha. She straightens out, and glances around the room again. A pair of tweezers on a little work desk catches her eye, somehow still in its place while the books and scraps of a project were in disarray. She grabs them, and carefully picks the jagged edges out of the frame, dropping them into the nearby waste basket. 

She walks the now glassless frame over to a nice little spot on the shelf it seemed to come from. She had the urge to not leave this compromised room how it was, but she didn’t have a lot of time to waste. She takes her planner and pen from her pocket.

_ Dear whoever, _

_ If you got in like I did, you’ll notice Aloha is missing too! I’ll bring him back as soon as possible. See you soon! _

_ With a smile, Bobble ^u^ _

She then folds the note, and tucks it under the picture frame. With that, she hops back to the window. Perched again, she looks around, and spots a few more little shiny spots. Her eyes close, and her perma-smile is back in place. She jumps from the window, using the bushes below as a cushion, then investigates the noted spots.

She smiles as she picks up a keychain shaped like a fried shrimp, then one double sided Squid Sisters keychain. Just as her little hunch advised, there was a trail. She decides to keep her turf gear on. The part of her that liked to be optimistic wanted to think she stumbled into a prank meant for a pink friend of his, that she could just laugh and then slap him in the face for such a cruel prank once she found where he was, but the other little voices in her thoughts disagreed with this idea. He wouldn’t drop these, even for a trick. She felt these would be fakes if it were really a situation like that. He likes to appear cool, she remembers, so there’s no way he’d leave his room in a state that couldn’t be fixed before visitors dropped by. 

Before she continues, it crosses her mind to warn her friends. Or rather, tell them where she’s going and try not to allude to anything wrong.

Bobble: hey guys ^u^

Bobble: I’m going on an Aloha hunt today~ wish me luck~

Headphones: Didn’t he insult us yesterday? Something about “at least we won’t have to deal with the idiot team” in response to Goggles being away…

Bobble: I’m gonna get back at him ^^ Found his house, but he’s not home…

Glasses: Just don’t stay out too long! It’s gonna rain around 4…

Glasses: Wait you tracked him to his house?! Isn’t that a bit much???

Bobble: don’t worry about it! ^^

Goggles: Good luck!!!

With that, she darkens her phone, continuing to find the little train of keychains. Bi heart, pink squid, three different tropical flowers, kirby, I <3 pearlina graphic, 3 different clownfish… with each keychain found, she stored them with care within her hat. Eventually, the keychains were few and far between, until one had been left in front of a sewer grate near the old inkopolis plaza. 

The last keychain was a Hand-made, hollow pink heart made of clay, very carefully fitted with a rainbow of heart shaped gems around the edge. In its center, a pink, glittering heart with a pair of squid eyes added on with glossy paint. She stared at it for a little while, until a buzz from her phone startled her out of her trance. It was from Emperor! But not in blue team’s chat…

Emperor: Is he missing?

Bobble: why do you ask? Don’t worry about it~

Emperor: tell me.

Bobble: If he was, that isn’t gonna matter for long^^

Emperor: Don’t go looking for him. Cease your hunt.

Emperor: It’s too dangerous.

Bobble: i know.

Bobble: and like i said, stop worrying. Okay?

Bobble: I don’t like it when people worry about me.

With that, she shuts her phone off. No need to let phone calls ruin things if she has to be stealthy! She tucks away Aloha’s special keychain with the rest of the lesser keychains, and jumps down the grate. And where she ends up, that familiar smell of dirt and oil is ever closer. Dirt, oil, and something else… something she couldn’t place. This place is hell, the voice in her thoughts concludes, it would be bad to get hit. 

She moves in the shadows, careful not to make a sound, thankful she placed those keychains in such a way that they wouldn’t jingle. She moved from box to box, keeping eyes and ears out for movement. Soon she started hearing voices, strange and accented. And as she got closer, a familiar voice yelped in pain. She picks up her pace, quietly spreading some ink so she could move even more unnoticed. Popping into her inkling form once again as she ducked behind flimsy crates, she saw her target. 

A figure she recognized as an Octoling, equipped with odd glasses, had Aloha smushed against the ground, limbs held so he couldn’t go squid form. He seemed a bit cut and bruised from struggling, and was surrounded by other octarians. He seemed to be desperately trying to sweet talk his way out of the situation, but was painfully cut off by more pressure being put on his wrists.

“Sorry, but your little lies aren’t gonna work on an elite. You’re under arrest for consorting with an enemy of king Octavio.” the octoling says. Now or never, bobble figures.

Bobble throws a suction bomb to the right of the crowd, sticking some unprepared soldiers. She moves quick enough to splash the octoling soldier in the face with her ink, and once she backs off to rub the mess off her eyes, Bobble grabs aloha by the hand, running back the way she came. She laughs away her tension as she dodges the blobs of octarian ink being hurled her way. 

“B-bobble?! How-” Aloha stutters as they run.

“Don’t talk, just run~!” Bobble replied, turning on her heel to clunk their heads together to mix ink. Accidentally splatting him would be bad.

They had almost made it back to the grate Bobble came from, but they were being blocked by more octolings. They sneered and giggled, brandishing octoshots and rollers. 

“Hold on tight!” Bobble advises. Aloha goes squid mode, and clings to her arm. 

She swings her slosher wildly, doing her best to dodge attacks from the onslaught of octolings. She had nearly cleared a path, and upon spotting an opening, she guns for it. Two octolings grab her slosher and tug, trying to reach further to grab her by the hair. She Immediately lets go of her weapon, letting the two stagger as she tugs her hat back against her head and continues to head for the grate. She was so close to an escape…

But as her hunch had advised, she was just short of making it. The octolings were faster on foot, and knocked her out. There was nothing more she could do, and her rescue plan had been thoroughly foiled. 

When Bobble came back to her senses, she was being lead past an array of cells. As soon as she could feel her face, her smile perked right back up again.

“Oh, seems like you’ve finally come back, Inkling! You had some nerve, Inking me in the face.” the octoling carrying her mused. 

“Where’d you take me? And where’s Aloha?” she asked.

“Oh, that’s his name? We killed that inkling brat.”

“Liar.”

“You sound so sure.”

“I caused more trouble, so of course you’re lying.” 

The octoling giggles. “At least you have that going for you, girl. You have a name?”

“Bobble!”

“Well, bobble. We’ll figure out a special kind of punishment for you, I’m Sure~ but for now, I’ll let you have some time with the one you searched so hard for. He seems a little peeved to be in a cage alone.” the Octoling says.

They’ve arrived at an isolated cage. Inside Aloha sat, looking rather gloomy. Aloha glanced over at them as the octoling soldier opened the door.

“Your savior has arrived~!” the Octoling announces, laughing at her own joke as she shoves bobble inside. With the door locked, the octarian walks away. 

Bobble smiles her usual smile. Aloha smiles bitterly back. He watches her as she goes and sits on the little bench across from him, adjusting her hat. 

“Hi.” Bobble greets him.

“Hey.” Aloha mutters.

“Are your bruises hurting less?”

“Not really. How’s the hat?”

“Intact! Thanks for asking~” 

There’s a pause of conversation. Aloha wondered if his tone got across, as he watched her hold that smile. He laughs bitterly, looking away.

“I really hope it was worth holding onto that rather than your weapon. Really.” Aloha says, tone still sour.

“It was.” Bobble says. 

Aloha gives her a bit of a side-eye. “How? Your weapon was the ticket out and you lost it.”

Upon being asked, she removes her hat, turning it upside-down. With that, there was the jingle of many little metal rings. Aloha now looks over as she holds out the hat full of keychains. She then squats on the ground, and began to lay them out in front of him, every single one he would usually carry was in her possession, now all were being laid out between them.

“I don’t know if you left a trail on purpose, or if one of those other guys took em’ and lost em’ along the way, but I do remember that you like keychains a lot. And according to Rider, you got upset when even one broke, so I made sure to keep them safe. I hope I didn’t miss any…” She says, fishing the final keychain out, and watching the heart shimmer in the light, “I feel like they hold all sorts of stories. Especially this one - it’s really cute.” bobble says. 

Aloha just sat there for a moment. He now felt like the biggest jerk for being rude to her.

“I. uh…” Aloha swallows his pride and says, “...You know what? They are pretty important to me. You were right to hold onto them like you did. I’m sorry for not understanding, it was totally uncool of me.” 

“It’s alright! Just treat me to something sweet when we escape to inkopolis~” Bobble says, gently placing the special key chain with the others, “Do you want them back?” 

“I do, but… I think it’s clear there’s holes in my pockets.” Aloha says.

“Alright! I can keep holding onto them. You’ll get em’ right back when we’re free.” Bobble replies with a smile.

“Cool.” he replies.

With that, he kneels on the ground too, and helps her gather up his little plastic treasures.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> between Omega and Bobble, their hunches are never wrong! but for entirely different reasons. 
> 
> Also, just to mention, Aloha canonically keeps keychains (with the exception of the final keychain in this scenario) specifically for flirt purposes only - not for the reasons Bobble thought. but how could you just say that to someone who went through the trouble of gathering your flirt tokens for you? with intent to rescue on top of that! gee, someone should teach the s4 not to be so rude to blue team's members... *wink*


	3. Marie Snaps!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> as it says on the can! But with a little tinge of calming down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another chapter done! this one is very Emp and Vin centric. I hope you enjoy!

The first couple stages were simple for Emperor. The part about weapons being in tuna cans was a surprise, but it was nothing to slow him down. For him, the trouble was in Vintage’s competitiveness in things. There’s typically only one of the special release cans, so he races to get them, usually shoving Emperor out of the way. So thus, in simple retaliation, Emp saves his energy for the last stretch so he can shove Vintage off the end platform and grab the zapfish. Once they both exit the stage, usually, a fight breaks out that only Marie can quell. Wash, rinse, repeat for almost the entirety of the first area until Marie got tired of it.

“THAT’S IT!” Marie yelled, stepping between the fourth slap fight of the day and knocking both of the agents on their butts, “I’M TIRED OF PLAYING NICE! Until the two of you grow up I’m not letting you go out there. You guys understand that?”

“What? You can’t do that!” Vintage growls.

“Oh yes I can!” Marie replies.

“But what about our siblings, 2?” Emperor asks.

“They get to wait because you won’t get your act together. So I know you’re both gonna shape up if you know what’s good for who you care about.” Marie says. 

There’s a tense moment, and the younger inkling boys pause.

“What makes you so sure you can stop me?” Vintage asks.

“Are you trying to challenge me, 4.5?” Marie asks.

“Maybe I am.” Vintage says.

“Fine. Splat me once and you can keep going. If I get you 3 times, both of you leave for the day since it’s late anyways. Think you can do it?” Marie proposed.

“Sure can. Tell me where and when.” Vintage says. 

With that, they head back to base, and Marie gets her weapon and agent gear. Having nothing else to do and feeling this is a terrible idea, Emperor helps make space for a fight. 

“This is going to be easy.” Vintage says.

“I have zero faith in you.” Emperor deadpans.

Once all is set, Emperor seats himself on the roof of the little platoon’s shack. Vintage is ready to go with his splattling while Marie, now dressed, has her hero charger at the ready, twirling it around her hand.

“Ready, squiddo?” Marie asks. 

Vintage nods. “Emperor, count us down.”

“Alright,” Emperor sighs, resting his head on his palm,

“4, 3, 2, 1. Go.” 

With that, Vintage charges his weapon up, and Marie immediately blindsides him with 2 bombs, one to break the armor and stick him, another to splat him fully. 

“That’s one.” Emperor announces.

Once Vintage respawns, he goes, “That wasn’t fair!”

Marie replies, “Sure was! Better move, Squiddo!” and she fires her loaded charger, just barely missing him. 

Vintage uses a curling bomb to attempt to get a good distance away, but Marie quickly covers up his path, splatting him again with a bomb and full charge shot.

“That’s two.” Emperor announces, more interested with his ring than watching Vintage lose to agent 2.

On his third try, when he respawns, he charges where he stood, knowing he had armor enough to at least tank one charger shot. But with two full hits, even if Marie got inked a bit, she still easily picked him off.

“And that's the game.” Emperor sighs.

Vintage, respawning once more, is very pissed off. Marie grins at him and lowers her weapon.

“That’s that. Just go home and relax tonight, okay? And when you two come back, I expect better attitudes.” Marie says. 

With that, Emperor nods, and hops off the roof, heading for the exit grate. 

“Why didn’t you help me?!” Vintage growls at him.

“You never asked, did you?” Emperor replies, pausing to glance at him just before he was going to jump down.

“But we’re after the same thing!” Vintage says.

“Well, the whole time you gave me a very strong impression you didn’t want my help. So of course, I’m not going to throw myself on the grill for someone who wasn’t all that willing to work with me. You didn’t even ask if I was alright with betting the rest of our time before challenging our senior. I’ve earned the right to be angry with you.” Emperor replies simply. 

With that, he jumps down through the grate. Vintage casts a scornful glare at Marie, who was now seated down, in her kimono, playing with a little bubble blower. 

“What? You can’t blame me, you know. Go apologize.” Marie says.

Without another word, Vintage hops through the grate as well, arriving back in the plaza. He really, really didn’t want to apologize to anyone. But there Emperor was, just waiting for him.

“Aren’t you gonna go home?” Vintage asks.

“Of course, It’s getting late after all. But I figured safety in numbers would be the best option.” Emperor replied.

Vintage. Doesn’t have much of a response, and kind of stares at him for a second. Emperor stares back.

“You serious?” Vintage asks. 

“Mm-hm.” Emperor responds, nodding.

With that, Vintage sighs a little, then walks past him. Glancing over, he sees that Emperor fell in place beside him. They walk together in silence, as the hazy warmth from the sun begins to fade with its setting. Vintage didn’t like the awkwardness and silence of it all, but even so the time spent walking causes him to reflect on the actions taken that day. Considering it all together, it didn’t make him feel good that he ended up getting so competitive in their situation.

After some walking, thinking over words and swallowing pride, Vintage decides to try Marie’s suggestion. 

“Look,” Vintage mutters, keeping his eyes on the road rather than the squid beside him, “I’m… sorry.”

“For what?” Emperor asks, twisting the ring on his finger as he walks.

God, it sucked being the first to apologize. “W… well...For getting way too intense. Pretendin’ you weren’t there... and stuff… I’m sorry.”

“Well, I accept your apology… and I’ll apologize as well for pushing you off the stage so many times.” Emperor says.

“Alright.” Vintage says.

There is a slight pause, and the sounds of crickets and cicadas fills the silence between them.

“Though…” Emperor decides, “I won’t always mind a bit of competition, so long as we keep it clean and light. I think no bad blood between us would be the best thing going forward.” 

“I can agree to that.” Vintage says. 

With the mood being a bit lighter, they continue on with a semi-flowing conversation. They talked about what kinds of food taste best (Vintage loves spicy things while Emperor can’t deny that he hadn’t expected fried food to taste so good), and even went on a bit about battle tactics. Vintage even joked about stealing the hero weapons to use in turf war. He quickly learns that he has to explicitly state it was a joke after saying things like that. 

Soon enough, they reach Vintage’s house. It was a rather small house, and Emperor was rather surprised by it. More long than it was tall, he could see some beige curtains obscuring the inside with an array of plastic plants on a front porch, with one round black table and chair. Rather simple, much, much simpler than the kind of things Emperor is used to. Vintage walks up the three steps that lead to that small porch, and opens the door. Before he steps in, he notices Emperor’s odd expression.

“What? Want to check the place for octarians?” Vintage joked.

“Sure.” Emperor says, walking up the steps.

...of course he wouldn’t catch that one. 

“It was a joke, Emperor.” Vintage says.

“Oh.” Emperor replies, tilting his head, “I thought it was just smart. They could know where we live after all… and numbers mean better chances of not getting squidnapped. Your front door is unlocked it seems…”

“Alright, good point… we’ll check quickly. But you can’t go in my Mom’s room, okay?” Vintage says.

“Alright.” Emperor agreed.

With that, Emperor steps inside with him. The area in front of them seemed to be a living room that lead into a kitchen on the right, and had a hallway on the far left. At the very least, things were extremely clean. The two inklings take their shoes off and head further inside. Vintage peeks into one room, then quietly closes the door, raising a finger to his lips. Emperor nods in understanding, and after checking the bathroom at the end of the hall, they finally make it to Vintage’s room, where he shuts the door.

“Alright, we can talk in here. But just don’t yell, okay?” Vintage says.

“Okay.” Emperor says, glancing around the room.

He was surprised by the extreme neatness still present. Not only that, but things were rather devoid of… well, for lack of better word, personality. There weren’t photos of his teammates, nor any posters or even any of the rank war trophies Emperor would expect. He at the very least knew vintage was prideful about things like that, yet all that was present on his desk were textbooks and a dated laptop. The only photo in the room was one that Vintage turned towards the wall on his way past it. 

Emperor was wary of bringing it up, yet he was so curious. “Still waiting on those trophies to arrive?” he asks, doing his best to frame it in a light-hearted way.

“Those stay at Omega’s.” Vintage replies.

“Oh… why?” Emperor asks.

“Why do you think?” Vintage says, opening his closet and carefully burying his weapon under a pile of unmarked boxes.

Emperor takes a moment to think about it. “Could it be… that you’re not actually allowed to turf?” 

“It’s not that.” Vintage says, standing up and closing the closet door, “It’s that I have to act like I’m terrible at it. Let’s not talk about it, okay? You’re not supposed to be here. You should leave as quietly as you came.”

This… didn’t quite sit right with Emperor. He replies, “If you say so, I won’t press you on it. Just lock your door after I leave, ok?”

“I will.” Vintage says, “Just… go. We’ll meet up in the plaza early tomorrow. 10am, okay?” 

“Alright.” Emperor replies.

He heads for the door, and Vintage follows him as he leaves. Emperor puts his shoes on, and walks out onto that creaking porch.

“See you tomorrow.” Emperor says.

Vintage nods with a slight hum, and quietly closes the front door. Emperor quietly walks down the stairs, and once he’s back on the street, he lets go of a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. He looks back at that little house one more time, and quietly wonders to himself just why it unsettled him so. He figured if he could, he would try to get a little bit more out of him about why he has to pretend. It just… didn’t make sense.

When Emperor finally got home, getting a nice dinner made for him by a caring maid, crashing on the couch after changing clothes, he notices a little notification. He clicks it.

Agent 2: Hey, I added you two to the agent network. You two can now chat with other agents here, or just make a separate chatroom for whoever the heck in our network you wanna chat with. You can also change your name if you don’t like it. Enjoy.

Agent 4(temp): huh.

**_Agent 4(temp)_ ** **_Changed their name to_ ** **_xXbloody_RecordXx_ **

xXbloody_RecordXx: better.

**_Agent 4.5 (temp)_ ** **_changed their name to_ ** **_YellowRoses_ **

xXbloody_RecordXx: yellow roses?

YellowRoses: are you not also referencing old horror games?

xXbloody_RecordXx: not really… but you’re definitely making me curious as to how the hell roses can be related to horror. Especially ones colored like you.

YellowRoses: You’d be surprised. 

**_Agent 3_ ** **_Entered the chat._ **

Agent 3: Hi guys!! Love the names!

Agent 3: I’m not too good at thinking up ones myself lol

YellowRoses: Hello goggles. How are the travels with Sheldon?

Agent 3: Super fun! He bought me new boots!

Agent 3: how’s things over there? Did you find anybody yet?

YellowRoses: unfortunately not. And I think Bobble got herself into some trouble while I was busy in the valley…

Agent 3: thats no good!!!

Agent 3: but she’s really good and I believe in her power! Hopefully she’s gonna be ok…

**_Agent_8_ ** **_Entered the chat._ **

Agent_8: I hope so too… I’m more worried about Rider :( I haven’t been able to contact or find him

Agent 3: Aw darn…… i really wanna find them…!

Agent 3: I really hope its not… you know, another accident case...

xXBloody_RecordXx: Accident?

Agent_8: I will explain tomorrow, he would not appreciate being talked about here, I think. You are coming to the base tomorrow, right?

YellowRoses: We are.

Agent_8: Good. please get rest before then. 

Agent_8: have a good night and eat a good breakfast! 

YellowRoses: Will do. Goodnight, 8.

**_Agent_8_ ** **_Exits the chat._ **

xXBloody_RecordXx: I can’t stay for long either. I have to study.

YellowRoses: Goodnight Vintage.

Agent 3: Gn!!

**_xXBloody_RecordXx_ ** **_Exits the chat._ **

**_Agent 3_ ** **_Exits the chat._ **

With that, Emperor clicks off the screen, and gets up off the couch. He makes the trek off to his room to get ready for bed, and once he’s all set, he lays down. He felt very restless that night, so after some time thinking things over as he quietly watches tv, he decides to text Vintage in a separate agent chat.

**_YellowRoses_ ** **_Started a chat with_ ** **_xXBloody_RecordXx_ ** **_!_ **

YR: I hope you don’t mind me texting late, just look at this in the morning if you can.

YR: there are many things that are puzzling me… but either way, I’ll be happy to continue working with you. And again, let me know if you need anything. I’m not the best at picking up hints sometimes.

YR: ...and if you don’t mind, please do explain why you have to pretend to not be talented. And a little of why you and your sister live apart - I’m very curious.

YR: You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to say, though.

YR: Goodnight.

With at least a little of what was on his mind out on text, Emperor plugs his phone in for the night, and shuts the TV off. He cuddles up with his pillows, and soon drifts off to sleep...


	4. Late night Squidness!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a pun on Business!
> 
> also, octolings will speak in octarian in this chapter! 
> 
> [their sentences will be like this and Goddd i have to edit this cuz the brackets i chose are actually ao3 code :(]
> 
> also, this is a bit of a filler chapter... but i promise the next one will have some more action! if you like convoluted schemes and some soft cuddles though, read on! and yes its a bit shippy, so read the end for what ships.

As night fell, the last of pink team was looking for their lost members. It had been Octoglasses and Scuba, trying to piece together the last of their friend’s texts. The two stuck together, Octo even using her long tentacles to strap scuba to her back, much like a backpack. She took her time scanning the area before glancing down at her phone at Straw’s last message; a blurry picture of a strange inkling-like figure wearing armor, looking ready to charge.

“How ya doin, Scub?” Octo asks.

“We’re all clear, yo. Anything yet OG?” Scuba replies.

“Nope. Man, this really sucks… and after findin’ that letter I’m only more worried. I really am gonna beat the shell outta whoever took our pals!” Octo says.

“Y-yeah.” Scuba says, flinching at a noise and looking over, “But let’s not bite off more than we can chew, ya know? Play it safe… even if ya have the stabby tentastyle, i dunno if we can take on like, 50 enemies solo…” 

Octo glances in that direction too. “Yeah, yeah… let’s go check out that thing…” she mutters.

“OG…” Scuba says, glancing at her writhing tentacles around him, “You’re like, totally doin’ the Judd twitchy thing… please keep it calm…”

Octo doesn’t answer him, eyes focusing on the target. 

“OG? C’mon-” Scuba tries to whisper a protest, but one of her tentacles move over his mouth.

“Shhh…” She hushes him in response.

In an instance, Scuba feels her pace quicken, and he finds himself clinging to her for dear life. He hears the struggle more than he sees it, and after a moment it’s over.

“Gotcha…” Octo says triumphantly, giggling.

“What did you just do??” Scuba asks.

“Don’t worry about it, bud. Just secured us a foolproof plan~” Octo replies.

She lets him down to see, and lo and behold, there is now a cephalopod bound in rope in Octoglasses’s arms, struggling to try and and escape.

“OCTO.” Scuba yells.

“YEAH?” she replies, turning around, “C’mon, let’s bring em’ back to your place.”

“Bruh why my place?? Why did you just attack someone??” He asks.

“I… will explain some stuff to you when we get home. Ya just gotta trust me for now, ‘kay?” Octo says.

“Okay, okay… you’re eel lucky I’m all ride or die with ya.” Scuba replies.

Once the two get to Scuba’s apartment, with their captive put off to the side in a cozy spot, Octoglasses and Scuba take a seat on the couch. From there, Octoglasses proceeds to explain to him that the octarian race didn’t just die off, they’re really still alive, and octolings wearing the cool creepy shades and sweet armor tend to be not so cool and mind controlled. After the talk and explanations, Scuba’s head is understandably spinning.

“Wait… so like… ehh… the octolings… that means, like… uhh…” Scuba mutters. He loosens the strap on his headgear of choice, in hopes of letting the info flow better.

“Octolings real. Some escaped the army through the years, and others did not. Team Hachi is a good example.” Octoglasses stated slowly.

“Okay… um, how did ya… you know, find out…?” Scuba asks.

“Well…” Octo replies, putting a hand on the back of her head, “I always knew it. It’s kinda a part of my history, ya know? It’s been one of those things you’re taught to keep on the down low ‘cuz super stupid squids might death splat you for that. But since things are changing, well… I guess it’s not too worth it to keep a secret like that, is it? I think I’ve earned the right to tell at least one pal especially where it matters.” 

“Your history…? Wait… HOLD ON, are you…?!” Scuba exclaims.

Octoglasses takes a little travel pack of makeup wipes out of her shirt pocket, and wipes at the bridge of her mask and under her eyes. “I’m not one side or the other. I’m a Halfling, part squid, part octo. Thanks to the mix, my tentacles are funky and extra mobile, my beak is jagged, and the bigger tentaspots are turning into extra suckers. That and my mask is both not as dark as usual and doesn’t look right.”

Scuba is in awe as his friend seems to transform. The broken eyemask on her face is a deep dark purple, and she pops out some fake fangs to reveal a set of jagged beak teeth. She brings her tentacles closer to her hands, massaging the bigger spots on the ends and focusing to make them grow the way they naturally do. 

“So, waddaya say we turn me into an octoling and infiltrate enemy lines?” Octo asks.

“Ok. First, your true look? Poggers. Second, that’s genius, yo!” Scuba compliments, at the very least excited about the events unfolding.

“I knew you’d come around to it~ now, let’s go steal off our octoling. Go get me a shirt for our captive, will ya?” Octoglasses smiles.

“Will do!” Scuba says, wandering off to find a cozy shirt for the captive.

Octo steps over to the octoling, and once provided with a shirt, swaps their gear up. The octoling seemed to have a lot to say, but unfortunately she wasn’t quite understood, and couldn’t fight back well against Octo’s versatile hair. 

“Sorry girl! I only know a couple of those words were swears~” Octo says to her.

“You Discuss me…” the octoling growls, trying her best inklish.

“Oh yeah? What does she be sayin’?” Scuba asks on his way to the kitchen.

“She means disgust, Scub.” Octo tells him.

“Your blood is tainted, no one will fell for it!” the Octoling protests.

“Yeah, yeah. Lemme get a look at your eyes so I can copy the marks. Blood doesn’t matter, dummy. They can’t smell blood like salmonids can.” Octo says, reaching for the shades on the octoling’s face.

Once she pulls the shades off, all the octoling’s protests end very suddenly. This kind of freaks Octoglasses and Scuba out for a second… until the fear surfaces on her face.

“[W…where am I?]” they ask.

“Uhhh… Octo, you catch any of that?” Scuba asks.

“She’s very confused and I think I shouldn’t put these on.” Octo replies to scuba. She folds the glasses and does her best to reply, “[We are in Inkopolis. You stole friends, I stole you. Ehh, can you speak Inkling? I know very little Octospeak.]”

The octoling replies, “a little… head hurts… I… I take an inkling?”

Octo nods at her, “yeah, you took more than one. But I don’t think it’s entirely your fault, it was these glasses here, if i had to guess.”

“E-eh?! B-but octolings must wear them… all ways… king’s order.” the octoling says.

“Welp, your king is bad. You’re probably not the first to get hypnotized… do you have a name I can call you, by the way?” Octo asks.

“Um…” she thinks for a moment before she replies, “Emillia.” 

“Sweet name.” Scuba comments, cracking open a soda.

“So, Emillia, let’s make a little deal.” Octo says, picking the glasses back up as an idea comes to mind, “Octarians are good at tech, right? If you could make these glasses not mind control me when I put them on, but still light up, I’ll set you up with a friend that will help you. You won’t have to go back to the valley at all. Sound nice?”

Emillia nods. “Can do.”

“Sweet! I’ll untie you. But one more thing…” Octo says.

Her expression suddenly becomes terrifying as she says, “[You hurt my friend, I’ll bite your tentacles off.]”

Emillia nods, very fast and very fearful. “Okay!!” 

Octoglasses’s expression softens, and she frees the octoling, who quickly gets to work on the shades.

“Woah. what did ya say to her, OG?” Scuba asks.

“Just made sure she wasn’t putting on an act. Though I may have botched some of the pronunciations.” Octo says.

Once things are taken care of, Emillia passed off to a distant party friend once found and outfit completely lacking mind control devices, Octoglasses was ready to go.

“Alright. Scuba, hold out your wrists! I gotta bring a captive to make this look convincing.” Octo says, the loudness of her voice scaring him out of slumber on the couch.

“But… OG…” Scuba says, pausing for a big yawn, “What time is it…?”

“Eh… about 9 or so, I thought?” she glances at the clock, then says, “Oh. it’s 2am. No wonder it hurts to exist.”

Scuba stands up from the couch, sleepily walking over to her. He half-heartedly smacks the rope out of Octo’s hand, then grabs it and very gently tugs.

“It’s gonna have’ta wait for the mornin’... let’s go get pj’s on~” Scuba yawns.

He leads her back towards his room, and Octo can’t help but start to feel nervous.

“But weren’t we gonna do this like right now?! What if they’re like, torturing ‘Loha for info he doesn’t have? Or makin’ Straw, like, I dunno, bake ‘till she drops…? She hates bakin’, you know?? I don’t wanna give up right now! They could be in trouble!” Octo says.

“But octolings sleep too…” Scuba replies, taking his tentacles out of their updo as he continues, “‘Sides, what’s goin’ in all sleepy gonna help? Beauty rest wins wars, yo…” 

Unsure how to respond, she lets him lead her to his room. He rummages around in his drawers until he finds a cozy t-shirt and fluffy pajama shorts, and lets her get changed in the bathroom. When she steps in there, she swaps that one-size-too-small armor out for the loosely fitting pajamas, taking care to tie the string on the shorts so they stayed up. She neatly folds the octoling armor and leaves it on a towel rack for the morning, then gets to cleaning off her makeup in the sink. 

As she glances into the mirror, some unpleasant feelings well up into her throat. She promised her fearful parents not to tell anybody what she really was, but in her scramble to get her friends back as fast as she could, she broke this promise without a second thought. They weren’t even going through with it tonight, and she didn’t know if the friends she so desperately wanted to save were even okay. It felt like she had no time, and was doing something awful by just staying in these soft clothes, and letting scuba coax her into sleeping. Even the mere fact that she really was exhausted from all the panicked searching, anger and stress made her feel awful. She didn’t know why these feelings were getting to her now of all times, but she knew it was hurting. She couldn’t think too much without feeling like she was going to cry.

Unable to take looking in the mirror, Octoglasses turns and leaves, shutting the light off and closing the door behind her. She had to convince him to go with her, there’s no way they could take even a second to rest, their friends could be dead! She opens his door, and finds him in a white, flower print nightshirt with matching pants, tidying up his bed. He even had his favorite headgear off now, replaced with a sleep mask that sat on the top of his head. He glances over at her, his slow, sleepy hands pushing the last of his many pillows into place.

“Hey OG~ just fixin this… you alright?” He asks.

She wanted to tell him there was no time. That they had to leave, right now, that it wasn’t okay and who knows if they were next, but all of those emotions caught in her throat. She tried to take a breath in, and it barely helped. Overwhelmed by all this turmoil, all Octo could do was shake her head, and hate the feeling of the pinkish tears beginning to roll down her cheeks.

Scuba stops fluffing the pillows, and is by her side as quick as he can manage. He gently hugs her, and that’s when the tears really start coming. He gives her as much time as she needs to get it out, gently rubbing her back and swaying a bit. Once she’s calmed down enough, he gently guides her over to the bed, letting her lay. He gently takes off her headgear that she had left by mistake, and gently places them right by his own. 

“I’ll be right back, okay? I’m gonna make sure everything’s all locked. ‘S not gonna take long, promise.” Scuba says. 

Octoglasses simply nodded, and watched him leave. To busy herself, she looked around for some tissues. Luckily they and a wastebasket were within arms reach, so she took the time to blow her nose and dry her tears, trying not to worry about Scuba. He’s back quickly, a water bottle in hand as he flips off the light, letting the lava lamp by his bed be their only light source for a bit before turned on some fairy lights too, casting pink, blue, and purple light across the room. In the cozy glow of those lights, Scuba returns to her side and hands off the water bottle, letting her drink.

“How you doing?” Scuba asks.

“...Better…” Octo answers.

Once she sets the water on the nightstand, the two laid down together in the soft sheets, a little space between them as they gazed across at each other. Octo’s thoughts, though still unstable, were starting to run out of steam as she gazed at Scuba, seeing how relaxed he was.

“Good… I know you really feel stuff strongly… today must’ve been super hard…” Scuba says.

He gently reaches for her hand. She holds onto him, squeezing his hand back gently, seeing the glow of each other’s ink in the low light. She simply nods, eyes beginning to droop.

“But… y’know us, OG. we’re a good vibes team… I’m sure ‘Loha and Straw are keepin’ it chill. They know we’re comin’ for them, ‘cause we’re best buds. When we get home, we’ll have a biiiig sleepover party together… and y’know Straw and I will fight over who can fit more smooches on your Inkto-cheeks~ sound like fun…?”

Octo nods, a smile spreading on her face. “Yeah… I like that.”

“I thought you would…” Scuba says, smiling in return, “Let’s get our beauty rest… Goodnight~”

As the last of her painful thoughts are washed away, Octo closes her eyes. “Thanks, Scub… Goodnight.”

…

In the middle of the night, Omega awakes when a particularly rude guard bangs their fist on the glass of her cell. She jolts awake, glances at the laughing figure, and gives them an undesirable finger in return. As the guard laughs and walks away, she glances over at her cellmate. Red was sound asleep, and Omega was happy about that - when she had finally drifted off to sleep, the poor was still having trouble.

As she eyes her friend a little more, she notices that her hair was left in their twintails. Omega knows that’s probably half of her trouble, so she figures she’d take them down for her, just to take away any pressure it might cause. She walks over, kneels down, and slowly undoes the pigtails.

Once Red’s hair is all the way down, falling in cut up curls behind her, Omega couldn’t help staring, hand hovering over the spot she had just freed. She wondered to herself where these fluttery feelings were coming from… was it her tiredness? Was it simply being trapped with her in here, or perhaps something in the air? She couldn’t think of the last time she felt like this. 

Omega sighs softly, moving her hand away. She should just to try to sleep…

But before she could move away entirely, Red suddenly grabbed her. Omega froze completely as she gets shoved to the ground, Red pinning her down. Omega was so stunned, she could barely mutter out an apology. But then she noticed that Red was still very much asleep, her eyes closed. Try as she might, Omega couldn’t free herself from the sleepwalking squid.

“...Nobody… puts their hands on my pals… only I do that!” Red growled softly.

“Okay.” Omega murmurs in response, stiff as a board.

A few moments drift by, before Red lets go of Omega’s hands, and grabs her by the waist instead. And then, she simply cuddled up to her and began to snore softly. 

Omega stared up at the ceiling for several minutes, her face lit with a Cyan-red blush. She couldn’t get her heart to stop pounding, no matter how hard she tried. Red growled something into her shirt, and after a moment, Omega slowly raises her arms, and wraps them around Red, gently petting her head and back in small circular motions. Slowly, the growling gave way to a strange inkling purr. 

“...We’re cuddling now… I guess…” Omega mutters softly.

She has no idea how she’ll be able to get back to sleep after this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *whacking canon with a comically huge mallet* heyy Scuba x OG is like one of my faves... and also straw in there! they got together some time after team s4 was a thing, so, they're not just pining. pink babs good. also RedMega! good stuff! where's double egg boy you may ask? weeeeeelllllllllll.... just know he's in my mind. but agents have to come first! hope you enjoyed the read and headcanons i peppered in there!


	5. Early to rise, early to Bread!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the first boss monster is within reach, and Vintage wakes up bright and early to meet up with his coworkers and fight! but... who's that outside?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for Implied family situations with Vintage, a bit of mentions of scrapes amidst battle, and someone getting the sleep juice unwillingly.
> 
> sorry for the unexpected hiatus! things got rough, but currently i have a bit more time and i'm going to try and write regularly now! i hope you enjoy this chapter! it's got plenty of action and fun moments!

Early in the morning, Vintage awakens from his rest. Having headphones plugged in from the night before, the alarm he set was blaring in his ears and scared the carp out of him. He swiftly shuts it off, and hops out of bed as quietly as he can, swapping his nightgown out for his favorite clothes with a practiced swiftness and silence - his hero outfit was waiting for him at his destination. 

Once all set, Vintage makes his way through the house as quietly as he can. He grabs leftovers from the fridge, eating them as quickly as he can before he circles back around to the bathroom to freshen up. In the silence of early morning, Vintage sort of liked the stillness. He figured that he’d try to get up again at this time, whenever he had the chance. There was a coolness in the air that he appreciated, and it was so… peaceful.

Once he was done brushing his teeth and keeping up on his hair, he moved down the hall and back into the livingroom/kitchen area. He takes a stickynote from the stack of them on the table, and writes the following:

_Doing a group study today. Phone’s off. See you later. -V_

As he draws the last line of the V, the sound of knocking sends him into a panic, causing him to go squid form and dive for the nearest floor vent. After a moment or two, he peeks up and out, hearts still beating like a fast-paced drum. Upon seeing nobody in the house, Vintage cautiously sneaks along the floor. Upon looking at the window on the door, he sees that Double-Egg is outside.

But Vintage doesn’t trust it. He _knows_ it’s not him. Egg doesn’t know where he lives. And just to make sure…

Vintage stands, now in inkling form, and Signs at him: “Why the hell are you here so early? Mom could of heard you.” 

The inkling smiles nervously, with beak fangs too numerous and sharp, and immediately signs back, “Sorry! I just couldn’t wait to see you!” 

Two more things wrong: 1)Double doesn’t know a single bit of ISL (Inkling Sign Language). 2) Vintage knows because Omega has tried to teach both their teammates - and Red picked up bits and pieces, but Double-Egg, try as he might, has such a poor attention span that he’s only really learned “hello”, “bacon”, and several swear words. This person wasn’t him.

But Vintage smiles. May as well toy with this guy for a little while. Vintage grabs his pen and a few more sticky notes, pockets them, then opens the door. 

He signs at the impostor, “We have to leave. Quietly.” 

Not-Egg signs back, “Understood. At what point is it safe to talk?”

Vintage signs, “You’ll know when I start talking to you. Let’s go.”

Giving the impostor no time to think, Vintage rushes through the front door as quietly and as quickly as he can, making the not-inkling stagger a bit. From there he runs off down the street, keeping a careful eye on them.

“Hurry up!” vintage signs, watching as the impostor hurries quietly down the steps.

Away Vintage runs, surprised to see that they were keeping up so well. Whatever the case, Vintage refused to let them get close enough to do anything. He wouldn’t keep his eyes off him long enough for something to happen. He would not lose to a cowardly imposter. 

Once a ways down a few roads, vintage finally speaks, “Don’t show up at my house like that. You wait for me at the square, remember? You have to text me the night before if you’re going to walk with me, standard procedure!” 

“Sorry dude! I just got a bit excited and forgot…” not-egg replied, sounding slightly winded.

“Well don’t. You’re lucky I don’t back out of routines for this team.” Vintage growls.

They approached the square at record timing, with Vintage’s refusal to be caught. Once in the safety of a morning crowd, Vintage relaxed slightly. He stopped at an open table, plopping his bag down to rummage around for the food and drink tickets he never uses. He was sure that a foolish impostor wouldn’t dare try anything out in the open like this. Once the tickets are scraped from the bottom of the bag, he glances up.

“I’m going to get us food from the truck. That’s all you’re getting from me until everyone else shows up-” 

“Thanks, Buddy!” the impostor interjects, grabbing Vintage’s hand with a wide grin.

As the not-Eggshades gives his hand a squeeze, Vintage feels something prick his skin. Instantly a feeling of numbness is spreading, and Vintage feels lightheaded. The fake pulls the tickets from his hand as he steadies himself on the table. He sees the slightest dot of light cyan blood from his hand.

“Oh dang, you don’t look so good… you must’ve stayed up late or something, huh?” the impostor says.

“I…’m fine…” Vintage growled in response, even finding his jaw feeling tired all of a sudden.

“Aw, just take it easy, boss!” fake-shades says, pushing Vintage into the chair by the table, “I’ll go get our food! Just try not to fall asleep on me, ‘kay~? I wouldn’t want to have to drag you back home for a rest.” 

As the confident fake strides off towards the line, Vintage growls. He’s pissed that he underestimated this jerk. But still, he refused to admit defeat. He had to do something… he had to get away… and it’s a good thing he wrote that note while he was running. As a fog overcomes his thoughts, there was only one last trick he could rely on… with the last of his failing strength, he slaps the sticky note onto the table, and glances towards the manhole he jumped down just a day ago… with all his might, he channels his strength, his anger, his will not to lose to some nameless nobody who stole his friend’s face…!

**_X-Zone!_ **

It was a bit of a weak one this time around, but he got the burst of strength he needed. He sprinted towards the hole, scaring anyone in the way, went squid mode, and disappeared down the abyss, letting himself fall. When he resurfaced in octo canyon, Marie was about to greet him, but was thrown off by those x-shaped fires in his eyes.

“Uhhm… hey.” Marie says.

“There’s an impostor. It looks like Eggshades.” Vintage replies, before his short-lived panic response fizzled out and left him falling to the ground unconscious.

“Oh.” Marie muttered.

…

In the square, the impostor eggshades nonchalantly takes his meal from the strange truck vendor, thanking him extra nicely. By the shrimp’s reaction, it was sort of out of character for the face he wore, but he didn’t care very much - he wouldn’t need to use it long at all. Now that he was sure that his target was secure, it was a simple run down the road with that strange, sleepy x-blood leader. He would have to thank that captor for the information later…

But as he got to the table, he saw his captor had vanished; only his bag had been left on the table, and a look inside revealed no hiding squids or anything hinting at where he might be. He was hoping for at least a squidphone, but as usual, most inklings carried that on their person…

Then, in his frantic looking around for signs of where the inkling went, he saw a note on the table.

_Nice try, impostor. If you’re going to look like Eggshades, you’ll eat greasy grossness like him. -Vintage_

At reading this, the impostor swears he feels his brain short out for a second. He can’t imagine a world where eating food that looks like this is the punishment this idiot implies! But he has to track this squid as soon as possible, there has to be someone who saw him! He glances around once more…

And again, his eyes fall on the food. He’s… never really seen food that looked like it. He doesn’t have many missions dealing with food at all, being the type to disguise and capture. As the inkopolis news tone plays, drawing all eyes to the big screen on the tower, he decides he may as well switch his disguise out for a more discreet looking inkling. It was bad to stay looking like someone popular for long. He even takes the shades off and pockets them.

It… it would be just gathering intel if he tried that stuff, right? Two huge plates of warm food were just sitting there in front of him. Completely untouched. He could know for sure if it really tasted disgusting like “Vintage” had written. He picks up the plastic fork and knife that came with the dish, and carefully stabs into the warm food with an only slightly audible crunch. He separates each spot of that deep fried sandwich thing, just to help convince himself this was a purely work-related indulgence…

And when he finally took a bite, it tasted _amazing._ That inkling was messing around, he was absolutely sure. Compared to the strange bread he’d have at home, where there’s no flavor, often burnt or bad food way too ripe to eat without feeling sick, this was a godsend. He couldn’t stop himself from munching it down as fast as he possibly could! So much at once would hurt later, but right now he just didn’t care…

When he comes back from his inkling-food-induced bliss, he quickly wipes away the mess on his face with a napkin and runs to a bin to dispose of the evidence. He’d have to report back soon, and he couldn’t be smelling of food. Taking anything useful from vintage’s bag, the impostor makes his way back to octo valley. 

Once transformed back and in his octarian armor, he reports to his commander, lying and saying that Vintage had left earlier than anticipated and was lost in the crowd of the inner city. After getting harshly reprimanded, the mimic octoling disguises away his wounds and heads for the holding cells.

Down there, many of the captives either ignored or glared at him. Save for one.

In this specific one, there were two inkling girls. The one wearing the cap rolled her eyes and looked away, while the one wearing the paisley print bandanna waved casually at him. He didn’t understand why she was still acting.

“Hey friend~ did it go well?” Bandanna asks.

“We’re not friends.” he answers shortly, “It failed.”

“I disagree. But what happened? I gave you his address and everything…” Bandanna says.

“Well he’s fast for one, and even when I got the opening to get him with a sleep poison he somehow slipped away.” the mimic growls.

Unphased, Bandanna replies, “Sounds like him to do something like that. Did you turn your back on the body? That’s rule number one of taking down targets, you gotta make sure they’re done…”

He gains a light blush, and glances away. A chorus of ooh’s come from a particularly rowdy bunch of inklings in the cells behind him.

“Well, that’s the only spot you messed up at. You should pat yourself on the back for coming close!” Bandanna replies, almost seeming to smile. The ooh’s are still rising in pitch.

As the chorus of ooh takes on their loudest pitch, and some voices devolve into a yell, he responds, “Close isn’t the same as success, and I can’t be proud of it! Do you realize that if i can’t capture or eliminate _every single threat_ to the king assigned to me- WOULD YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP ALREADY?!” he shouts, turning on the bunch that quickly just shut their mouths and giggle at him.

Once the rowdy bunch is quiet, he turns his attention back to Bandanna. “The point is, there is no being proud of making it half way. Not here. And if i only make it half way too many times, I’m going to be deemed useless. And useless is the last thing you’ll ever want to be down here. Get it?”

Bandanna nods. “If you’re useless, you’re takoyaki.”

He at least knew what that was - the king makes it at concerts sometimes. “I guess that’s right. Somewhat.” 

“Well you could try again. Homes are lived in, friend.” bandanna says, tapping her fingers on the glass, “What’s he gonna do, not go home? He’s got no friends right now. And by the way our leader talked he might not get missed if he disappears.” 

He squints at her. “You’re really selling this guy out.”

Bandanna shrugs. “He and Skull are on bad terms last I checked. Should I care what happens to him?”

The way such a cold line was delivered with such a gentle, casual voice gave the mimic shivers.

She tilts her head to the side. “I’m not friends with him. But you’re my friend…”

“Just because I tricked you by transforming into cappy over there doesn’t mean we’re close! That was part of my job!” he protests.

“You sure? It was a long week or two. I fed you, we talked about stuff… we went all over the place. I brought you to fun spots, remember?” Bandanna says.

“What part of ‘this is what i do as my job’ are you not getting?!” he asks, getting a bit flushed again.

“Now you’re the one that’s not gettin’ it - I knew you weren’t Cap. I just thought you were shy, not trying to get me… there’s been so many escapes into inkopolis lately, so I thought you were one too.” Bandanna explained.

He got even more flushed. He wanted to say something, but all he did was open and close his mouth a few times. The captured inklings behind him try not to lose it again.

Bandanna points at him. “That’s how I knew! Your cute teeth are a dead giveaway that you’re a mimic. I study a lot of bio because I want to be a doctor someday. Everyone said octos were extinct post war, but I still studied up just in case… and that came in handy. I’m friends with you now because of it.” 

His blush was so bright, he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know what to think. Was she just out there? Was she telling the truth? _Were his teeth cute?! How does that classify as cute?!?!?!?!!?!?!?_

“Y-you’re lying! You’re just- you’re just trying to get me to let you out! I could get killed!” he retaliates.

“Not at all! I get that. I’ll chill and figure that part out on my own.” Bandanna protests, playing with the edge of her headgear of choice, “I’ll find you and take you with me once I’m out, if you wanna go. Could I get your name, by the way? That would make you easier to find.”

“Bullshit.” he denies.

“Real shit!” she corrects, “Name please!”

“I don’t have one!” he snaps.

“How??” She asks, matching his tone.

“We don’t get them!” the mimic shouts, “Our job is to mirror, _that’s it!_ I’m not my own octoling, I don’t get to be treated like someone outside of missions, rations and punishment, and guess what?! I don’t get the bliss of hypnotism because I have to act! What do I get? An explosive chip in my shoulder that goes off if I take way too long in Inkopolis, because taking my sweet time means I might be thinking of deserting! _So hell, even if I wanted to leave, guess what?_ **_I CAN’T._ **”

There’s a bit of a silence. Now, instead of relaxed, the inkling in front of him simply seems worried. He didn’t like how it made him feel. He turned around.

“I have to go. No more lies, got it?” he says.

He begins to walk off. But then, she called out.

“I’ll figure somethin’ out for you… and we’ll all get out. Promise.” She shouted after him.

Too overwhelmed to truly register what she meant, he walked away a bit faster. For now, he kept trying to tell himself it was all just mind games… from some strange Inkling.

… 

When Emperor arrived at the squidbeak splatoon, he didn't expect to see Marie worrying over a passed out vintage on the outdoor couch. The boy wasn't even in his hero outfit yet, so Emperor could tell something definitely went down.

"Please tell me he just didn't get enough rest." Emperor sighs.

"Unfortunately that's not it. According to him, an impostor disguised themselves as one of his friends and by the little checkup i gave him they got him with some sort of sleep drug. I don't think he's going to wake up anytime soon." Marie explains. 

"Truly? Let's see if we can do anything for him." Emperor says. 

Emperor then proceeds to approach the sleeping Vintage. He taps his chin, thinking for a moment about what could possibly awaken him from a drug induced sleep…

First, emperor checks of Vintage is wearing a shirt underneath his favorite sweatshirt. He is, so Emperor decides to attempt to take the top layer off.

"A bit of a chill always wakes me in the morning if i kick my sheets off in my sleep. Perhaps it could help?" Emperor says.

Unknown to him, Marie is giving him quite the look behind his back. It doesn't work, so Emperor hums in disappointment. Perhaps it would take a combination of things.

"Let's see… one of his friends used to be Skull, and Skull does like sweet things… hm." Emperor says, speaking out loud to himself as he takes his bag off and rummages around. 

He finds an old piece of candy at the bottom of the bag; a piece of butterscotch. Emperor smiles at it, and unwraps the thing, bringing it close to Vintage's face. He did seem to twitch for a second.

"Vintage. Your king wants you to awaken. Do sweets not please you?" Emperor whispers to him, hoping that being sweet like the candy would do something.

He brings the little candy just a bit too close. Completely in his sleep, Vintage bites down on the candy along with Emperor's fingers. Emperor holds in a scream himself and pulls his poor digits out, glaring at the sleeping Vintage who made a rather dissatisfied face. He didn't even open his eyes as he swallowed it whole, lied back down, and rolled over. 

"Did you not like the taste of my blood, or are you more of a cinnamon-loving type of squid?!" Emperor growls at his sleeping coworker, nursing his wounded hand.

There is no response, so Emp shoots a scary glance at Marie and asks, "Has Goggles brought you any of his plums yet? Do you have any?"

"Yep. They're pretty good, better than the ones Gramps makes. And they don't deliver pizza down here so i go through those things like crazy…" Marie answers.

"Unfortunate. What about the juice they sit in?" Emperor asks.

"How would you react if i told you i drank it?" Marie retaliates.

"Violently... distressed." Emperor answered stiffly. 

He leans on the nearby tree, and thinks to himself. “Wasn’t Ha- I mean, Agent 8, supposed to be here?”

“He texted me that he’d be later than expected. Something about helping 3.5 or something.” Marie answers.

“I see. At least he knows where he is, it sounds like. But it means I’m on my own for now…” Emperor says. 

With a shrug, Emperor walks over to the trunk where his Agent gear is kept and suits up. He neatly folds his day clothes and takes his hero dualies from their place. Twirling one on his finger, he heads for the entrance to octo canyon’s first area.

“Where are you going?” Marie asks him.

“Where does it look like I’m going?” Emperor asks, gesturing to the kettle far off in the distance, “I’ll simply pick up where we left off. If I can destroy the denizen that resides in that big kettle, it will let us progress further into enemy territory. That sounds like something we should strive to do since no siblings have been found yet.” 

“Are you sure about doing that yourself?” Marie asks him. 

“Certainly.” Emperor says. As he walks further away, he flicks the radio headphones on to keep in touch as he says, “It’s early as well. I doubt we’ll be expected, and a little bit of vengeance is in order, don’t you think?”

“Vengeance for what part?” Marie asks.

“A lot of what’s happened. Now let me know if you get any readings or anything on the enemy.” Emperor says.

He gets into the kettle with not much trouble, and gazes upon the strange, empty area. At the very least there was artificial sunlight streaming in, and a large machine sat in the middle of the room farther away. A particularly large zapfish sat in a prison bulb at the top of the machine…

Quickly, Emperor eyed the linings of the walls around the odd stage; multitudes of ripped and old clothes hung on clothespins, and a few thousand sticky notes lined those walls as well, too far off for him to see and rippling in with each gust of wind. He didn’t see any octarians among the mess.

With a small sigh, Emperor steps towards the launchpad. But just before he gets on it, someone grabs onto his arm. He almost shoots them until he sees who it is. 

“Shhh! Don’t go over there!” Headphones whispered harshly. 

Emperor was shocked to see her to say the least, and instantly thought back to this morning’s issue; Impostors exist.

“Say something that will make me trust you’re real and I’ll consider it.” Emperor says. 

Headphones looked confused, but still gripping him with shaky hands she says, “Last we saw of Bobble was her talking about hunting down Aloha. Your favorite battle tactic is Emperor’s road, and you almost got fired from Crusty sean’s for causing a grease fire that ended in an explosion.” 

Emperor calms, then says, “Alright, so it is you… what happened? How are you out here?”

“Same way several of our friends got here - I got squidnapped a little while ago, shortly after the texts I mentioned… I got stuck in a cell with Army across from a few of his members and someone mixed members from Aloha and mask’s teams. Apparently Army’s team thought far enough ahead for an emergency Manual to catalogue possible disasters and the octarians didn’t take those from them. We made a break for it, but we got separated from the rest of team orange and Now Army is stuck up there on that _thing_ without the weapon he stole!” Headphones explained, voice edged with anxiety and panic as she pointed out where the unlucky squid was clinging for dear life. 

“I see…” Emperor says. He taps a little button on his agent's headgear and says, “Agent 2? Please send one of Sheldon’s drones over. Include a splatterscope and vintage’s radio headset if you can; I’ve got a friend that needs to be sent back to base. It’s not who either of us were looking for, but she is a friend and I’m glad she’s safe. I’ll bring out another by the end of this fight.”

“Roger that, Agent 4.” Marie replies, “We’re sending one in right now.” 

Once Headphones has a weapon to defend herself with, and the drone to guide her out, Emperor Super jumps into action, closer to the machine. He notes that standing far enough away won’t tip off the enemy, and sees if he can spot Army from below. He locates the poor squid, still clinging to the top of the softly humming machine. 

“Army!” Emperor calls up, “If you can focus enough, switch your ink!”

For the moment, Army does glance down at him, but once Emperor spoke, the machine kicked it into high gear, the gentle hum crescendoing into a loud, clunky roar that drowned out anything Army might’ve replied with. 

The last thing Emperor expected to be attacked by was a sudden, huge loaf of bread knocking him several feet. His armor did its breakaway failsafe, and for the first time Emperor was left without his armor. He tried to roll and recover, but the force with which he was hit with left him off balance, making him scrape his arm on a stray piece of metal. He inks a path and hides, moving slowly out of the way of another bread hit while he recovered his gear. Once the Octo-oven ran out of steam, all sentient loaves disturbingly gasping for breath, he thought fast and began to climb the things. Once he was up top, he looked for Army. Thank goodness he heard him… 

“Where did you drop your weapon?” Emperor asks.

“These stupid loaves punched it off the stage! How the hell was i ever supposed to prepare for something like this?!” Army shouts over the roar of the oven.

“I see you held on to your manual just fine!” Emperor commented smugly, taking aim at the huge tentacle atop the machine, “Better finish up your thoughts before I break this thing!”

Once the tentacle burst, spraying bright green ink, Emperor backed off, grabbed Army, and super jumped away from the machine. Just in time, too - the Octo oven let out this ear-piercing shriek along with a heat wave that evaporated most of Emperor’s ink. The bread loaves decided to adorn themselves with bits of armor, popping out from the within.

“WHO EATS BREAD WITH _INK PROOF METAL IN IT_!?” Army shouts. 

“Cephalopods that think too literally, I’d say. Now stop scribbling and hold on tight-!” Emperor advised, and barely dodged another swing from the bread. Army goes Squid mode and holds onto Emperor like a strange little cape. 

Now Emperor was starting to pick up on the pattern - he baited the bread into attempting strikes, and dodged swiftly, hearing Marie crack some puns over the radio. Once the monstrous oven was out of steam once again, Emperor quickly scaled it once more. The second tentacle was done away with swiftly, and he narrowly avoided another screech from the enemy. The added weight made his landing slightly off, but he endured it. He was sure by the way the octo oven was falling to pieces that the next blow would be the last...! 

Now, the enemy brought out a huge ink wall - Emperor hears Marie loudly state that it’s like a glazing mechanism. He feels Army squeeze him a bit tighter out of fear, and now it was really time to run! The wall swiftly approached, and Emperor moved as fast as he possibly could, dodging bread shots all the while. In the last stretch, as Emp ran out of ink to run with, he swiftly abandoned his top gear, wrapping Army in the protective gear and tossing him out of range of the ink wall. 

It turned out to be an unnecessary move - the wall ran out of ink, and a final fighting blow from a tired loaf wrecked his hero jacket almost entirely. Emperor sighs angrily, and begins to climb without it, the heat coming off the overworked loaves making it hard to climb. He managed to make it up the machine before the breads could move, and the final shot was down to the wire. But the final blow was dealt, causing all bread to rush back in the oven. 

The oven overloads, burns, and goes up in an inky explosion of green. Once it was gone, the heat of the room was reduced dramatically. Wiping the ink from his eyes, Emperor spots the imprisoned zapfish ahead and frees it from the electric prison. He tucks the little thing under his arm.

“Army? Did you live?” Emperor calls out.

“Y-yeah…” Army replies.

“Excellent. You’ll now do a favor for me once we return to base.” Emperor states with a grin.

…

Army worked carefully on his next dishes. Of course it was a curry lunch - he couldn’t pass up the opportunity to make some with the fresh ingredients grown by the lovely agent 2. He was watching over 2 separate pots - one his usual, amazing recipe, the other… well, agent 2 assured him she’d finish it off if Vintage wasn’t going to. He glances over at headphones, who was glancing between the two pots.

“Debating over which you’ll try?” Army asks her.

Headphones actually nods and says, “You make good food. I kinda do wanna try the spicy one… I’m sure it’s not that bad, right?”

Army shook his head. “It’s definitely not for those who can’t handle hotter spices. This is probably the spiciest i’ve ever made my curry… and the beast is pretty much done.” 

“Done?” Emperor calls out from his seat, “Excellent, bring it here.”

“Alllright. Headphones, feel free to serve yourself if you want.” Army says, loading up a plate of spicy curry that Emperor had requested.

He brings it over, about to ask him if he’s really sure he wants this, but first notices how Emperor had seated himself ; on the outdoor couch. With the KO’d Vintage’s head in his lap. Many questions ran through Army’s head at once, but Emperor simply beckoned him over with a bandaged hand. The food is handed off with no problem, and the sleeping squid stirs.

“Excellent. The scent is already affecting the sleeping food lover…” Emperor said, gaining quite an evil expression as he gathered a spoonful of spice, “You may do as you wish now. I’ll handle this part.”

Army walks off, running once he sees his other friend has not taken the spice well, and Emperor smiles evilly at the victim in his lap. He brings the spoon closer to the sleeping Vintage’s lips. 

“Don’t you want to have some? Come on. Take a bite, and I’m sure the flavor will wake you up just fine~” Emperor says. 

After a few seconds more, when Vintages gives a little yawn, Emperor thrusts the spoonful in his mouth. The reaction is almost instant, Vintage’s eyes fly open, and he bolts upright, pulling the spoon out of his mouth, unable to stop himself from swallowing the spicy curry. He turns, and shoots an angry glare at the smug Emperor, then his eyes widen in shock as well. What Emp assumes to be the work of the curry lights Vintage’s cheeks with a red blush.

“What the fuck?! Why?! And What the hell happened to your clothes?!” Vintage growled before needing to let the spice on his tongue air out as the spicy feeling continued to spread. 

“I’m afraid I wrecked my jacket whilst you slept. We have access to the next part of the canyon, by the way. And after you so rudely bit me, I figured a nice lunch from Army was more than enough to wake you. And prevent another unpleasant experience like that.” Emperor answered.

Vintage vibrated with rage for a few moments, but then his calm came unsettlingly fast.

“What’s wrong?” Emperor asked, still smiling smugly, “Still a bit slee-!”

He couldn’t finish his teasing before Vintage tackled him. The hand holding the plate now struggled to balance and keep from tilting the food onto the floor, while his previously free hand was now pinned between the couch and Vintage’s leg. Vintage then pinched emp’s nose, causing him a bit of confusion for a moment before Vintage used the spoon to scoop up a larger helping of curry than Emperor had plagued him with. Before Emperor could even properly protest, Vintage shoves the spoonful of spicy curry into Emperor’s mouth.

“You look tired. Why don’t you wake up a bit, eh?!” Vintage growled.

But to his surprise, Emperor barely reacted. This only frustrates Vintage more, so he decides it wasn’t a big enough spoonful and gives him a second dose of the stuff. Then a third, fourth, and fifth until the plate is cleared of spicy curry. The smile on Emperor’s face made the heat from the spices worse somehow!

“Grateful enough to feed me, hmm? Spice is hardly challenging for a king~ thank you for the meal~” Emperor cooed, letting the empty plate clatter to the floor. 

Vintage would’ve been even more angry, but a glass of milk was shoved in his face before he could do anything more violent.

“J-just drink it and get some regular curry. It’s great, really!” Headphones tells vintage with a nervous smile. 

Vintage just shoots Emperor one final look before he downs the glass, and leaves for the curry pots. Headphones stares at Emperor for a little while.

“Are you really not affected?” She asks.

Emperor chuckles slightly, and whispers softly, “I’m extremely allergic to spicy peppers, actually. 2 has my medicine prepped for this outcome. Do let my partner know he nearly killed me with such a kind gesture~”

“Idiot.” Headphones states, and rushes off to grab that medicine before the spices do irreversible damage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the mimic octo is a complex boy... i hope he and Bandanna will be friends... and i hope the ocs aren't too much!


	6. Survival in Dangerous Territory!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a collection of happenings, mostly within enemy territory! could some of these octolings be friends? what about the Inklings? they're so strange...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry christmas! have a double chapter upload!
> 
> The friendly octo ocs are my girlfriend's creations... i love her very much, so that's why I added them in, that and I find them very entertaining! there is a bit of vintage and emp in this chapter too, but the next chapter will have much more of them!
> 
> for now, enjoy the headcanons! that's basically half of the coroika experience anyways :)

Forge moves swiftly and quietly through the holding cell’s ventilation system. She really hoped they didn’t have anything that could sense heartbeats or something. She didn’t have a weapon, or an ink tank or anything - but she had a screwdriver, and a keyboard and mouse setup. She was lucky the octarians didn’t quite realize the damage she could do with it…

Upon spotting another empty room, she locates the camera within. From her angle,the table the vent was under hid her well enough. She watched it to see the pattern she’d have to move in. once it turned just right, she moved swiftly to the blindspot just beneath it. 

Next move? Carefully unscrew some spots and plug her stuff into where she could find a spot to do so. Out of her coat pocket, she pulled her broken squidphone and a chord. Though the screen was unusable touch wise, she could still use it as a mini screen if she plugged it into her setup. From here, it was hard to tell what she was doing sometimes with the bit of octarian words mixed with her inkling commands, but she made do. Half of messing with codes and hacking was not knowing the strings you delete...

Well, actually, that’s just plain reckless sabotage, but still it worked more than it failed. 

She jotted down what she was doing in a notebook to the best of her ability, as she does with everything since she joined team orange. It helped with reversing the worse things she’s done as long as she spells it all correctly. 

But more importantly, she figured out how to get into the cameras! She almost cheered when she saw that she could see out of the camera above her. Testing some things out, she could move between what camera she was viewing in the area! So she quickly circles what she wrote earlier in her book, and writes out camera stats, such as how long it takes it to swivel in which way. Before she could get to writing out her last camera, someone was opening the door. 

Now, the next few things happen within ten seconds: Forge exits camera mode, keysmashes something into a line of code, rips her setup out of the wall, and stuffs it into her jacket pocket haphazardly with only her book still in hand as the enemy comes in and sees her. 

And now? The camera dodging didn’t matter, because she hit a guard on the head with her book, ran past, and oh! A cage or two opened here and there! So she could get lost between some escapees, but with how the enemy was to her, she couldn’t spot anybody to team with - all she paid attention to was anyone that was an octoling or an octarian trying to get her. 

She ran as fast as her legs could carry her, and it was a very hard task considering the chaos. But someone recognizable grabbed her hand - oh thank goodness, Army wasn’t captured yet!

“This way! I know a way out!” he told her. 

She believed him, too. She wanted more than anything to get out, to a spot with real sunlight, and to get back to her bed, or practice or even just make herself something good to eat… and they were heading away from the chaos pretty fast, and already she was feeling hopeful. 

They round some complicated bends, quicker than she ever thought possible for an escape, let alone army.

“How did you find it?!” Forge asks between labored breaths.

“It was simple, actually!” he says, typing something into a keypad outside a door, “I kept an eye on shifts, saw some cameras, had death by bread with that other inkling, most likely… oh, did I mention you just got fooled?”

As the door opened, Forge was thrown in the area and the familiar face fell away. Another mimic octoling was now smiling cruelly at her.

“You inklings really are so stupid!” the mimic cheers, stopping forge from running with a burst bomb of ink, “Let’s see you try another escape with  _ that _ guy in the room~! Careful, he’s crazy violent!” 

The mimic octoling enters something on the keypad again, and the door slams shut. 

Forge sighs softly, feeling like she wanted to cry. Well, at least the octoling didn’t take her equipment… she looks around for a good spot to attempt to pry a wall panel, and quickly notices these were much larger screws than the ones she packed. Just for the hell of it, she tries with her bare hand, considering the dented state of the metal and just how loose that it looked. Lucky for her, the stuff was definitely loose! She’d be out as soon as she was in! Once the panel is off, she begins her process again…

But then, she smells something.

It smells… sort of like she does when she decides sleep is for the weak, and that working on her computer is more worth her time, spending days in desperation, sugar cookies and water. Neglecting all else to fixate on a screen… what the heck kind of scent evokes a memory like that?

Her answer comes when she looks back, then up to meet the gaze of the prisoner that’s been here longer than she has.

“[What are you working on?]” the giant octoling questions her.

So many questions came to mind? What did they just say? How did she not hear them get so close?! Hell, they were wearing an old sign as armor for pete’s sake!! How long have they been here? Are they hungry? God, please don’t be hungry for inklings...

But all that she could think to reply to the gigantic octo was a small, fearful, “I can’t understand octarian… s-sorry…!”

But the big octo just looked at her curiously, almost innocently. And to her surprise, he replies in turn, “[oh no… um…!] H-hello… [can you really not understand? Ugh, what inkling words do i know….?]"

"H… hi…" forge responds. 

"[Okay! That's one!]" He says excitedly, then repeats, "Hello!"

This then turns into the two repeating the greeting back for several minutes. 

"Okay, this isn't really getting us anywhere, is it?" Forge sighed, watching the giant octo tilt their head in confusion once more.

She then flips to a fresh page in her notebook. She was good at sketching, so maybe they could picture things out, and ask questions like that!

But pronouns would be tough, not to mention the serious language barrier… for now, she decides to ask her simple questions that can be drawn easily. An octo in a cage, and a clock with a question mark all next to each other. She shows it to them, and they take it in their big hands and bring it closer to see.

As they think, she says out loud her question: "How long have you been imprisoned here?" 

Oh! He can reply in little inkling numbers! He knows that at least! He holds up three fingers and says, "Three!" 

Forge humms and asks, "Three? Three what? Days? Months? Years?" 

He thinks hard. How many days are there in an inkling year? He humms and responds, "Three… Three of Three six Five! Maybe?" 

Forge is pretty shocked. "Three Years?!" 

He nods. "Three years!" He repeats. That has to be the word… no way their months are that long. 

And then another hard to answer question popped into her head. She gets the book back from him and draws an octo atop several little bubbles that say 365, with a question mark. 

Repeated process, and she asks, "How old are you?" She really wondered if this was a blip of a very long life, or as long as she felt it was.

Once he figures it out he says, "Ten… and seven! Maybe??" Keeping time was rough when you're kept in a prison with no sense of time for so long.

Forge guesses, "Seventeen years? Woah, i only turned that old a week ago… a-anyways. Uhh, give that back there's more questions… we can figure out your birthday when we get out of here, too." 

Seventeen… he thought about that word while he watched her rip a piece of paper out from the book, carefully making strips to write on. She writes a word he didn't know, and holds it up, pointing to herself. Was this what he thought it was?

"My name is Forge." She says, pointing to herself, "Forge." 

He slowly points at her, almost booping her nose with his finger. "You… Forge." They repeat. 

She nods excitedly. "Yes! Your turn!" And she carefully hands him a paper strip and her pen.

They understood at least that she wanted them to repeat what she did - state his crime! It's fun to know your sentences, and it's amazing for an inkling to be incarcerated for "Forge" or whatever that meant in octarian! It was a little hard, working with such small materials, but he successfully wrote his by using one of his smaller tentacles to hold the pen. He gives her the scrap, then points to himself.

"[Broken Oath!]" He says. 

"Bluhrin, huh? That's one cool name!" Forge says, slightly mispronouncing what he said.

Then, as more memories come back, she remembers some keys in a previous manual - simple Alphabet translations between languages, including the thought to be dead octarian that they learned in class! She had to have that one somewhere on her person!! She starts to search her things. She abandons her paper scrap, takes off her many pocketed coat, and begins to skim through a filled manual or two, casting the ones that weren't it to the side.

Bluhrin looks at the books and begins to notice something. Scientists often kept journals like hers, and the words on the paper she held up, presumably spelling out "Forge", were in the spot where a name would usually go on those books.

Oh dear. There may be a misunderstanding…

He watches her as she used the alphabet key to spell out his name in inkling, and hers in octarian. Technically.

Well, it's not like he remembered his actual name very well, anyways…

"Check it out! I think this is how you spell your name in my language… and mine in yours. Cool, right?" She says.

He nods, just going with the flow of it. It wasn't too bad a title to be known by, as someone who broke their oath of protecting the king for plenty of good reasons. She seemed so innocently happy about learning his "name", too…

Bluhrin is his name now. Likely misspelt, with a meaning he'd have to tell her later when they both learned their way past the language barrier at some point, but still, he found this pretty nice.

Now, what was that inkling word? Could he get the meaning with just that one alone? He wondered, and thought hard.

"Forge…?" Bluhrin says, big tentacles curling in with nervousness.

"Yeah?" She replies.

"Forge…. F… Friend?" He tries.

It seemed to be right, because her eyes lit up and she smiled wide.

"YES! I am a friend! And you are my friend, Bluhrin! That's really good!" Forge says.

Though he couldn't understand it all, he at least knew it was correct in assuming and that it made her happy. He was happy too.

…

Vintage once again forces Emperor to hold still as he re-applies some medicine and bandages for one of the cuts he got. Things had been silent ever since Marie had talked to them.

There was a lot that they went over, but the main point was this: if they wanted to sleep in their beds, tonight was the last night to do it. Tomorrow, they would have to head to work with supplies to set up camp in deeper octo territory, with only their radio to Marie as a line to inkopolis. 

“So… what are you thinking?” Emperor asks Vintage.

Vintage shrugged in response. “This whole thing is screwing me over. That’s what I’m thinking.” 

“How so?” Emperor says, “With how you were attacked by that Mimic, they know where you live. But that’s easy to fix by letting you stay at my place, and simply buying what you need before we leave.”

Vintage carefully cuts the bandaging and makes sure it’s secure. “You don’t get it. I can’t go home, yes… but I need to go.”

“So your home situation  _ is _ an issue.” Emperor says. 

“It is. So no sleep for me, and unfortunately I’ll have to have you walk me home. Again…” Vintage sighed.

“What did you use as cover to come out? Assuming you’re not even supposed to go to the square. Are you supposed to be home by a certain time?” Emperor asks.

“Studying. And I should be home at 5…” Vintage says.

“Oh.” Emperor hums softly, glancing nervously at his squid phone. “...I hate to drop this on you, but we’d need a ride to get there fast enough.”

The look that came over Vintage said it all. Something between anger and fear. He stands up, pulling Emperor up with him.

“What the hell are we sitting here talking for then?! We need to move, NOW.” Vintage says. 

“Okay. just allow me to get my casual gear on…!” Emperor says,

Emperor follows closely behind Vintage, matching his speed easily while dawning a plain black Enperry brand tee and an ink tank for safety. They moved as fast as they could, back to Vintage’s little house. It seemed like nobody was waiting for them outside or in the street, so they moved up to the porch.

“I’m sure your mother forgot all about it.” Emperor tells him, giving a gentle pat on the shoulder.

“I think… you’re right. She’d usually be on the porch waiting…” Vintage whispered back. 

With that, Vintage reaches for the door handle. Why were his hands shaking so hard? No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get it under control…

“Vintage?” Emperor says gently.

“What?” Vintage responded sharply. The last thing he needed was such a flaw being pointed out.

“If at any time you’re in danger, contact me. No matter what time it is, I’ll come to you.” Emperor tells him.

All Vintage could do was nod in response. He turns the doorknob, and enters the house, closing the door behind him.

Emperor lingers for a minute more, taking a moment to text Vintage his phone number with instructions to wake him with a call if it’s late. 

Within one of the houses, he hears someone yell. More than anything, he wanted to do something about this… was it as bad as he thought? Was he overthinking, letting some old personal feelings paint an incorrect picture? The situation was delicate, sure… but still…

...he shouldn’t take his time. There was an impostor around these parts, after all…

…

Bandanna had a little moment of freedom with Cap! She didn’t know how, but several cells including hers had opened. It was absolute chaos, trying to avoid guard ink and such.

But was she focused fully on escaping? Not really. She found a good escape route, yes, and directed several people through it, but once Cap was safe, she decided to tour around. She was rather sneaky, and even got crafty by putting a metal bucket on her head to hide tentacles, and scored some metal armor to put over her shirt!

Lucky her, she found exactly the place she wanted to be, she thinks! She grabs a pair of tweezers, some nice and sharp instruments, and a few rather spiffy pieces of cloth! She hides the items under her clothes (Sharp stuff wrapped in cloth, of course!), and wandered back into the hall.

Hmm, she wondered if she should go back to her cell now, or wander around a bit more!

“Oh, beings of higher power, please let me bump into my friend~” Bandanna says out loud.

After a few minutes of walking, she does end up finding that Mimic she liked. It seemed he was being talked down to by some other big octoling ladies. She watches on until they leave him alone. Gee, why did nobody treat the mimics nicely? The poor guy walked away from that with a bruise on the cheek and spit on his armor. 

But once he was free, she grabbed onto his arm. He shoots a hateful glare, but it quickly changes to confusion. 

Bandanna just giggles, and pulls him away into the bathroom she saw earlier. There were no cameras there for sure! She gets him inside and closes the door - but he refuses to move away from it.

“[What the hell do you want from me?!]” the mimic growled at her.

“Sorry~ you’ll have to keep it in inkling for me.” Bandanna says, lifting the bucket off her head.

The shock he felt was immense. “How?! You had no tools!”

“The door just opened for lots of people! So I snuck out to find stuff and help you, like I said I would.” Bandanna explained. She lifts her shirt a bit, showing off the tools she took and taped to herself. “I’ve got some stuff that could get that dumb little tracker out now. Where’s it planted by the way? I hope it’s in a spot where I can just go in one and done!” she explained as she did a little stabbing motion with her hand.

Every sentence out of this Inkling’s mouth was like a punch in the face. The mimic sighed, covering his face with his hands.

“What happens after you get the thing out of me, huh? You send me on my way out of the bathroom bleedin’ out?” he asks.

“I mean sure. You could say you were injured on a mission!” Bandanna said with what almost looked like a smile. 

“I-” It took the mimic a moment to calm himself with some deep breaths. “You’re not doing that. This is a fucked up lie and you just want to stab me. And only me for whatever fucking reason.”

“Not true!” Bandanna pouts, “I wanna bring you back home, and I can’t do that if you explode! If not now, then when?!”

The mimic stares at her for a moment. There really didn’t seem to be anything sinister in her eyes… ugh.

“Well, I’ll tell you what we’re going to do.” he says, “Take the stupid bucket off. I’ll shrink myself a bit so you can hide in my armor, then we’re going to my place in this facility. I’ll give you a chance, but if you just stab me to death I’ll haunt you.” 

“Understood! Let’s hurry!” bandanna says. She abandons her bucket, goes squid form, and when he gives her the okay she hides with him.

“This! This is very weird, haha…” Bandanna giggles.

“It’s weird for me too. Just- just keep quiet, okay?” he tells her.

She nods, and it causes the mimic to make an uncomfy noise.

“D-don’t move much either! That was- eugh!”

“Sorry!”

…

Deep in octo territory, separate from the lucky captors who’s cages got opened, Mask sat against the wall of his cell, quietly trying to calm his cellmate. If he were out in public, he was sure he would’ve never thought to do this, but they weren’t in the same spot at first. 

Glasses had been tossed in, given a closing threat if he wouldn’t shut up then they’d give him more than a few bruises, and left him to cry. It was super uncomfortable to leave him like that, so Mask lent a comforting hand, then immediately got clinged to.

Mask wondered if Glasses even realized he was clinging to one of the inklings he found so scary. But it wasn’t like he could ask at the time.

But now, it seemed like Glasses was starting to calm, stuttering breaths beginning to slow. Mask had been gently rubbing his back for so long his arm was aching. 

“Theeere we go… feeling better?” Mask asks him. 

The poor squid was so tired out, he could barely manage a yes. Luckily the squid came with his own tissues, so Mask didn’t have to worry about his shirt getting too messy. After blowing his nose a few times, he finally got a look at his comfort buddy.

“...Mask…?” Glasses whines.

“The one and ooooonly.” Mask replies.

“I-I… I’m s-s-sorry…” Glasses whimpered.

“Don’t be.” Mask sighed, “We got kidnapped. One of my teammates has anxiety too, you knooow. There’s noooo way you could get through something baaad like this without an attack… and they only last so loooong~” 

“Th-thank you…” Glasses replied, sniffling for a moment, “W-what are they g-going to do…?” 

“Huuuuu… who knows…” Mask hums, “You shouldn’t think about it, though. Just keeeeep breathing, idiot.”

Glasses just nods. A few moments later he mumbles, “My head hurts…”

“Want your hair down?” Mask asked. 

Glasses nods, and Mask undoes the boy’s tenta ponytail, smoothing out the tentacles like he would for one of his closer friends. The action definitely removed a lot of tension from Glasses’ body, as his eyes began to drift closed. 

“Thanks…” Glasses says softly.

“Nooo problem…” Mask sighs, yawning a bit. “I think it’s laaate… get some rest…”

But before he knew it, from the head pats alone, Glasses had already drifted off. Mask undid his own ponytail, letting his long tentacles fall, and wrapping them around the boy. 

Was it bad he was no stranger to napping on the floor?

…

Night one with Bobble was really nothing special. Aloha had found her a fun cellmate, and nothing seemed as grim as it really was when she was around. She would sleep first, and he would drift off himself, the two on opposing sides of the cage. She seemed fine…

But looks were very, very deceiving on both ends.

Aloha himself was not quite used to keeping his laid back personality up for so long (especially because he felt bad with how he snapped at her their first day stuck together), and he was sure the way she kept her smile for so long was taking a toll on her. The longer she had it, the more forced it seemed. They were both keeping up personalities that weren’t meant to last for so long… and it was increasingly obvious to each side that their cheerfulness was unnatural. 

But because he didn’t want her asking about his laid-back mask, he didn’t bring it up. He just opted to try and be comforting, playing some games with her and getting quietly worried about her mind wandering off mid-activity.

“Sorry~ I don’t know why I keep… drifting…” Bobble sighs, smiling still.

“It’s cool! Just take your time, we got plenty… is somethin’ on your mind?” Aloha asks.

“You could say that…” Bobble admitted, fidgeting a bit.

“I guess it’s the whole situation, yeah?” aloha says, “I wouldn’t worry about a thing… I’m sure Goggles and pals noticed you were gone and are goin’ nuts lookin’ for ya, just like how you guys did when he got lost!”

“I know… heheh…” bobble responds.

“Yeah! And I’m close to my team too, no doubt pink team is comin’ to help too. They put the party in the search party, you know?” Aloha says.

He could tell she was starting to drift again, and she simply gives a small nod and an, “Mm-hm.” to let him know she heard.

“Yeah, so no need to worry about that~ but of course, if you need a little comfort from your favorite party boy, I’m happy to provide that too…” He told her.

She laughs a little, the sound almost half-hearted. “I do have a problem… but I don’t think hugs could solve it… and I wish that you could do that…” 

Now he was very worried! “Bobble… is it like, you have medicine at home that’s daily? Like, clue me in here… I’m worried for ya…” 

“Well… yes I do, but it’s not for anything physical, kinda… at least I don’t think the problem is physical…” Bobble admits, hiding her mouth behind her hand and turning away.

“Still, if you have a daily med, not takin’ it could be cousin’ stuff! At least I hear that from listenin’ In on Mask’s convos with his crew when we teamed…” Aloha says.

“The problem’s a really rare thing. It would sound fake if I explained, and I wouldn’t want you to worry…” Bobble says. 

“But wouldn’t it be better to let me know? Just so like, if you have a flare up or something I could try and help you be cozy…” Aloha asks.

“You promise not to get too freaked out by it? And to keep it to yourself?” Bobble asks.

Aloha nods, and the smile she usually holds turns into something a bit softer.

“Well, if you lie you’ll go to hell~ now, how do I start…” Bobble mutters softly to herself.

After a moment of thought, she explains, “Well, my rare condition comes in three widely talked about aspects. The bad rumor kind, the legend kind, and the medical kind. It’s often called by two names; Ruby eyes by nice people, and Demon eyes by not so nice people. Yes, my eyes are a rare kind of red, but that isn’t the only issue that comes with this. Inklings that have Ruby eyes almost always have terrible hallucinations that range from whispers, to not seeing right, to reality being completely not there. They can be brought on with bright light, too much noise or just by generally getting overwhelmed. Whether or not these things are better or worse depends on if you’re lucky with your genes. I’m usually okay, just being slightly off here and there, and I’ve been doing well with meds to the point where I don't need to worry. But right now… I’m just worried about having a bad episode while I’m stuck without that help. And not recognizing you… I really don’t want to hurt you by accident….” 

“Bobble…” Aloha spoke, trying to figure out what exactly he wanted to say. It was a tough situation…

“But hey~ According to some people, those hallucinations are just Ghosts trying to talk to me. If I listen hard enough I might be told a way out. Haha…” She reassures him, laughing to herself. 

“What helps when you do have this hallucination stuff?” Aloha asks.

“Uh… well… low light is good. Headphones would give me calm music. Glasses had fluids on standby for whatever might go on, if I cried too much or gave myself worse trouble, and would talk me through anything I was seeing… and Goggles always holds my hand, right until it’s over. He’s got a lot of patience for me… they all do.” Bobble answered softly. 

“Woah. Your team really is cool… you guys look out for each other. That’s real nice…” Aloha comments.

“Yeah? I thought we were all just dumb, hehe.” Bobble retorts.

“Well… I officially take that back. You guys are just cool in your own way. And now I wanna help you reunite more than ever…” Aloha says. 

“Same to you. I’m actually glad you’re thinking of helping me out…” 

“Well, what kind of person wouldn’t wanna help you?! You’re nice.”

“Aw, don’t make me blush~”

The two share a little laugh, and after that, Aloha decides something.

“You know what? I’ll let you in on a little secret of mine too, if ya want.” Aloha offers.

“Oh?” bobble says, “If it’s not gonna make you feel sad to share, sure.”   


“Well~” Aloha trails off, theatrically glancing over at the cell door before he says, “I do act laid back, and it’s often true I am… but any pal who knows me would say my hearts are too much for my body.”

Bobble tilts her head to the side. “Hmm?”

“That just means my emotions are. A lot. The jump between the positive and negative is short and bottling anything just ‘makes an explosive jar’ to put it in Scuba terms. I don’t like lettin’ people see me like that very much though, so I try to manage…” Aloha explains.

“Oh! I see.” Bobble says, “So uh. How’s your anxiety?”

“Oh you know~ It’s bad it’s so, so bad. But! Focusing on escape makes it feel less bad. We just have to get good. And go. And not get caught.” Aloha says. 

Bobble just nods, then reaches for his hand. “We’ll just have to support each other then! We can make a sorta functional squid if we try together.”

Aloha gives her a Genuine smile of his own, and gives her hand a little squeeze. “Yeah… you’re right. Let’s really start making this effort. For your head meds at home and the smoothies that make me happy!” 

…

Army and Headphones camped out together at the agent base in octo valley. They were both up a little late, sharing some curry still left over. Marie had been kind enough to let Headphones into the agents only app, so she had been texting with Goggles for a while before she decided to slow down and try to drift towards rest mode. 

“Blue team is pretty close, huh?” Army says.

“Yeah. They’re basically my family, you know?” Headphones told him before eating another spoonful of curry. 

Army nods, “It’s good to have friends like that. I’m worried about the rest of team orange… they have their books, but they don’t carry out orders in the exact same ways.” 

“Well, I bet you they’d be glad to hear their leader made it out.” Headphones says, scooping up another spoon as she says, “How’s your worry level for the s4? If you’re even worried.”

“Well, I’m sure they lost track of Skull already. He operates at the same unpredictability as Goggles does when you don’t have sweets to keep his attention.” Army says, scribbling in his manual as he continues, “But I know the others better. Mask will likely be resigned to fate if not provoked by an outside force, and Aloha… well, I’d be shocked if he hasn’t snapped on his captors. He’s pretty unpredictable if he loses himself. And I know we were told he hasn’t been caught, but I don’t like that no one has heard from Rider…” 

“Yeah. I know Goggles is super worried, as is Hachi who has found traces but not the tough guy himself. If he’s down in the metro again…” Headphones trailed off.

“Yeah. That’s no good… he’s talked to me about that. We may not be too close anymore, but he tells me about the things that get to him…” Army admits. 

“Oh. then you know he got that scar because this weird goop monster crawled in his brain, right? Gosh, I hope there’s nothing left of that freaky thing in him…” Headphones says, her eating speeding up as worrisome thoughts get to her.

“S-slow down, getting a stomach ache won’t help anything. I’m sure having Hachi will be good once they find each other. He’s one of his favorite cephalopods right now.” Army assured her. 

“Really? That’s good then, I guess. But I’m pretty worried for everyone still captured. I wanna do something to help. Bobble and Glasses are still out there...” Headphones says.

“We can ask Marie about helping tomorrow. She’s already gone somewhere tonight, so i feel we should listen to her advice and keep quiet here.” Army replies.

“That’s true…” Headphones says. 

There’s a bit of a pause, filled with sounds of clearing their plates and scribbling in a book. 

“Army? I’ve got a Goggles-y question.” Headphones spoke.

“...Yeah? What is it?” he asks, doubting it would be as dumb as she made it out to be.

“Wanna be friends? Like, actually?” She asks. 

He pauses in his tracks on writing. It makes her a little nervous. (In reality, he’s checking notes as quietly as possible.)

“O-or, I mean, w-we can keep teaming up! Yeah… we uh, we’re a good team, I think… like, to support everyone.. Uh…” She rambled on and on, worried over what he was thinking. 

“We could!” he responds quickly, “Be friends, I mean…”

“C-cool!” Headphones says, “Awesome… uh, thank you… I think I’ll pass out from embarrassment now, heheh…”

“Don’t be. If anything’s Embarrassing, I just had to look up what to say just now.” Army replied with a shy smile.

They both laugh, and continue stress eating together until they eventually fall asleep.


	7. Of Self and Self Care...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes self care is patching things up after fights. sometimes self care is destroying all those bad memories with a fire in your hearts. did you know cephalopods have more than one heart?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one is a bit heavy! but i cushioned it at the end with some tenderness. though i will warn, content is heavy.
> 
> but i like how it came out, so i hope you enjoy part two of this double chapter upload! happy holidays!
> 
> TW's:   
> -implied abuse  
> -Injury  
> -accidental self harm  
> -deadnaming  
> -dysphoria mentionings

Vintage lied in bed, awake and dreading. His absence was noticed. He refused to give his squidphone code. The punishment was severe. His stomach hurt. His cheek hurt. Many places hurt.

But more than anything, he wished he didn’t go home. He knew it was just something he had to do, but all that awaited was a punishment. Not only was he reprimanded, but his phone was taken. And all he was waiting for was for that awful parent of his to decide to rummage around his room and give him a second wave of issues - if not tonight, it would certainly come tomorrow. 

He hated not having his phone… It reminded him of his older turf war days. Back when sneaking out was even more dangerous and unpredictable, old splatfests being his best practice hours. Back when his voice was hard to tell apart from Omega’s. Back when he’d keep candy in his bag for his other friends. Back when he always tried to make himself likable, and went along with anything his old best friend liked… before he knew doing that made him too boring to hang out with.

God, how done he was with those feelings. Just thinking he was going to be set back… it made him hurt worse than anything else. Despite how it hurt to move, he sat up. He walked over to his closet, and unearthed the spot where he kept his splattling. The case was spotless, and the weapon inside kept in even better shape. He packed his favorite gear inside the case with it, along with a stash of snacks he had been hiding under his bed before. Once his case is all set up with every essential he could think of, he seals it up tight.

As he tugs the now even heavier case out of his closet, a hanger hits him on the back of the head, dragging the cardigan that held it past his head. He stared at the closet as he dragged the case to the middle of the floor. That closet, now devoid of everything his.

His grip on the strap to his case tightened. 

He hated how each piece of cloth that sat in there felt.

He hated having to wear it for show. Having to always beg someone to trade with him, because of how unbearable it felt to wear it.

How his old best friend needed someone to explain to him  _ why _ he was so uncomfortable. How that old friend always offered, and he  _ never _ let him trade just because he valued his comfort over his own-

Vintage sucked in a deep breath. He moved over to his desk, untapping an old journal he kept from the bottom and flipping to a free page, remembering Omega’s words on how to calm down. He reaches for a pen from the cup that held his stationery… 

And quickly realized he didn’t  _ want  _ to be calm. Calm would let sadness in, and he hated crying.

He grabs the pair of scissors in the cup instead. 

If he was going to be forced to give up secrets, why stay? Why put up with these stupid cardigans and their flashy, meaningless badges and little pins? Why act like he wasn’t tired, angry, finished with all this? 

Why not throw an angry, careless fit? It’s not like anybody else cared much at all.

He attacked the cardigans in the closet mercilessly. Using those sharp scissors, he made sure he could never be forced into them again. The closet of secret-hiding clothing was soon nothing-hiding shreds on mangled coat hangers. His hands stung here and there with light nicks he gave himself by accident, but he barely cared. The sight of this closet full of bad memories reduced to nothing had made him feel a twisted sense of delight.

And oh, he wanted to ride that high…

He opened the door to his room as quietly as possible. He could hear his mother, discussing something about behavior correction over the phone with someone. He wouldn’t let her words give him fear - he wanted to keep his anger and determination strong. He ducked into one of the vents that connected the whole house, going squid form to fit. He quickly found the room his phone was in - and of course, it was his mother’s room. 

It was so against the rules, but so right all the same. He slipped through the vent and landed on the floor with a muffled thump. He quickly grabs his phone, unlocks the door, and speeds back into his room. With no other option, and knowing if she didn’t hear him she would soon see her locked door open, he used all his strength to push his desk in front of his door. 

And now, all that was left was to call the other agent and hang on until he came. 

Vintage quickly enters his codes, checking the spot where Emperor left his number, then calling the squid. He didn’t know if the squid turns in early, so he figured he’d try the best way to get attention. In the time waiting for the dial tone to stop, he had to pace to keep that rush still going. 

He hears his mother notice what he’s done. It’s threatening to break what he’s built up. He can’t start fearing - not now. He wants to be triumphant. He doesn’t want her holding anything over him anymore, never again!

He hears his door knob turn.

“Hello?” Emperor finally picked up.

“Get over here,  **_now!_ ** ” Vintage told him, bracing himself against the desk as his parent banged her fist loudly against his door, “I’m stuck in my room, I don’t care how you get me out, just hurry up or else!” 

“On my way. I’ll be there as quickly as I can.” Emperor says, “I would say match inks and super jump to me, but things sound too complicated for that kind of concentration… I assume I’ll pick you up from your window?” 

“Yes! Fine!! Whatever!!!” Vintage snapped back, trying hard to pass his feelings off as anger to himself. 

The shouting on Vintage’s end grew louder, to screaming, trying to force her way in. it felt more and more like the flame of rage he held so tightly to was being snuffed out, and he tried his hardest to keep it. Or was it just growing out of control? He felt so hot, and his head felt hazy. It was getting so hard to breathe… was Emperor still talking…?

“Don’t worry, I’m still on the line with you.” he hears Emperor’s voice barely break through the haze, almost distant from the storm his feelings created, “I’m almost there. There’s not much traffic at all. Dumb plant, beige curtains… you’re the farthest room back, if I remember right…”

“Right.” Vintage confirmed, struggling to keep the door shut with the desk and his might. 

Normal threats we’re turning to death threats. Shrieking, telling him what he’s not, but will always be. Calling him by that cursed name, over and over and  **_o v e r…_ **

And all at once, he realized Emperor heard it. He could hear all of it, and the rage is back with a violent burst.

“ _ V*** DOESN’T **FUCKING** EXIST!!”  _ Vintage shouted, crashing the desk into the door as hard as possible, causing wood on the door’s frame to splinter, “THAT PERSON NEVER HAS AND THEY NEVER FUCKING WILL!! NEVER CALL ME BY THAT NAME  _ EVER _ AGAIN!!!”

And after that, a knock on his window alerted him. It was Emperor, using an inkjet to get to his height. As fast as he could, Vintage grabbed his case and threw the window open. He basically tackled Emperor and clung for dear life, and Emperor did his best not to drop him as the timer on the inkjet ran out. The two are launched higher in the air, and fall through a car skylight into the cozy back seat.

Even in the sudden calm environment, Vintage can’t get his breathing under control. He lets his case fall to the car’s nice floor, but can’t move that hand beyond releasing that baggage. His hearts were beating like thunder, and again, the heat from his stress was nearly impossible to bear. He hears Emperor talk, but not what he says. The car begins to move. 

In the low, golden lights of the fancy car, he was safe. Safe meant time to calm. But calm let him notice the warm tears that had been trickling down his face from the moment of his first scream. He felt sick.

But then, a water bottle was gently pressed against his cheek. He’s not sure where Emperor got it from, and it was freshly cold, too… Did this thing have a mini fridge somewhere?

“Here. I’m sure you could use something after that…” Emperor said gently. 

Vintage slowly sat himself up and off of Emperor, taking the bottle. “Thanks…” He said, the tightness of his throat making it difficult to speak.

The water really was amazing after such a night, and the coolness of the water bottle helped ease the bit of pain in his hands. Even so, he could feel Emperor’s eyes on him.

“What?” Vintage asks, barely able to put any more anger in his words.

“You’re hurt.” Emperor stated, moving to sit and buckle in, “I’m simply thinking about what I have at home to help… and I’ll let you borrow some sleep wear if you’re not fond of what you’re wearing.”

Vintage finishes off the bottle. “Thanks. I’ll take some.” 

“There is also a furnace at my house if you wish to rid yourself of that for good.” Emperor added.

“Absolutely good fucking riddance.” Vintage replied.

“Very well. I’ll get you your desired clothes and we’ll tend to your wounds after.” Emperor decides. 

Once they get to Emperor’s house, Vintage was not at all surprised to see the luxurious kind of house he lived in. It was big, with a huge garden of nice flowers in front that bloomed to the back of the house. It was almost like a castle, but more modern than that.

The two get inside, and after they kick their shoes off at the front, Vintage follows closely so he doesn’t get lost. The house was polished and clean, and Vintage could tell which parts of it Emperor and his brother would inhabit more often - there even seemed to be a lead off to a private training area outside. He wondered if he passed out somewhere along the way, and this whole sequence was an odd dream… he wished he could have something like this all the time.

Soon, he was brought up into Emperor’s room. It was easily twice the size of his old room, maybe even bigger, and connected to what seemed to be a personal bathroom. Emperor walked over to his closet, and pulled out a few sets of pajamas, then placed them on his bed.

“You can take your pick of what you’d like to wear. They might be a bit big for you though, so I made sure to choose sets with adjustable strings.” Emperor says with a smile. 

Vintage was still reeling from just being swept into this place, so it took him a moment to thank him out loud. He picked the set with the coziest, baggiest shirt. 

Emperor points to the bathroom and says, “Go ahead and get changed in there. Let me know when you’re done and I’ll come in to treat your wounds.” 

Vintage just nods quietly, and shuffles off into the bathroom to change, leaving the heavy case he had been dragging behind him in the room. He takes his time getting changed, then takes a minute to check his phone over…

_ Vintage: Omega I know you can’t see this but I’ve. been through a day. _

_ Vintage: as soon as you get charged please let me know if I actually really sent this because i think i died or something. There’s no way any one family can have all this _

_ Vintage: idk i might just rob my coworker when all this blows over. Idk how to feel about him but i know these pjs are mine now _

_ Vintage: fate really just went “have your daily dose of hell before i toss you into wonderland or whatever” _

_ Vintage: anyways I’m homeless after tonight lol. Guess I’ll enjoy this while I can before we go save you. _

_ Vintage: gonna go get patched up i guess?? This is too weird… _

_ Vintage: You’re better at these kinds of things. I wish you could talk me through… _

He decides he’s had enough time texting no one and walks over to the door. He peeks through and says, “I’m dressed…” 

Emperor nods, “Let’s get you patched up, then.” and walks over to the bathroom.

Vintage sits on the lid of the toilet, and watches Emperor take some supplies out of the medicine cabinet behind the mirror. After retrieving all that, he gets a fancy little jeweled bowl out from under the sink, filling it with warm water, then takes a wash cloth off a shelf.

“I’m a bit picky myself when it comes to supplies. My skin is a bit sensitive to peroxide, so I have a gentler kind of soap that works just as well to clean.” Emperor explained, dipping the washcloth in the warm bowl of water, wringing it out a bit, then soaping it up after.

Once the washcloth has been prepped, he approaches Vintage. Vintage had expected Emperor to go for the wounds on his hands first, but there was a big scrape on his cheek he didn’t even notice. When Emperor reached out and touched the warm cloth to his face, Vintage had flinched for a moment, but tried to recover quickly. The warmth and soap wasn’t too unpleasant - his hurt skin was just sensitive and didn’t expect the gentle scrubbing...

“Is it too hot?” Emperor asked, still using that oddly gentle tone.

“No… It’s nice.” Vintage answers, wondering why his hearts were beating so hard again, “I didn’t know I had any wounds on my face…” 

“I understand…” Emperor says, gently removing the cloth, washing it and re-soaping before moving onto Vintage’s hands, “Could you tell if there’s any other cuts anywhere that need cleaning?” 

Vintage hummed for a moment, trying not to focus on the gentleness or the slight stinging of the deeper wounds, “I’m not sure… there might be one on my back. I can’t tell if it’s scraped up or just really painful…” 

“Would you mind if I checked for you?” Emperor asks.

Vintage shook his head. “Go ahead, if you really want to spend more time cleaning…” 

Emperor has Vintage turn a bit as he cleans the washcloth and re-applies the soap. He lifts up Vintage’s shirt to see his back, and sees some scratch marks amongst a lot of bruising…

“They are a bit deep… this might sting a bit more, but I’ll apply some medicine as soon as it’s clean.” Emperor warns him.

“Okay. just get it over with…” vintage told him. 

The sting is definitely worse than what he felt on his other wounds, and he ended up audibly hissing in pain as he reflexively moved away. Emperor simply held the cloth to his wound and finished cleansing it as quickly as he could. Once clean and patted dry with a fresh washcloth, Emperor spreads a nice big dose of antibiotic ointment on his fingers and gives the wound on Vintage’s back a generous coating. It helps the sting die down almost immediately. 

“Better?” he asked.

“Mm.” Vintage said, nodding slightly.

After Emperor applied the medicine, he then carefully placed some gauze pads and held them in place with medical tape. Then, he moved onto his hands, drying, applying the ointment and wrapping his hands in gauze and ribbon-like bandaging, flexible and gentle. The scrape on his cheek only needs a little medicine and a small, judd-print bandaid. 

“That stuff should take care of the minor scrapes well. Though the one on your back will need more than one treatment, I think… Do you want some ice for the bruising?” Emperor asks.

“I’m… okay. I think I just want to rest…” Vintage answered, trying to focus on how cool the bandages over his hands looked rather than the thumping in his chest.

“Very well. Where would you like to rest? Emperor asked. 

“I have options??” Vintage blurted out.

“Well, of course…” Emperor says, “I have a little inflatable mattress you could use to pick anywhere, several guest rooms close by, and I hear the den has plenty of cozy spots. Where did you think you would go?” 

“I don’t know. For some reason I never imagined you’ve had a huge house like this. I thought I'd be snuck in, too… and end up having to hide in your room or exit to the streets.” Vintage explains.

“Well I won’t make you exit to the streets. That would be cruel.” Emperor says, moving to wash off the things he just used. He thinks and says, “I never really have to hide anything from my father. He’s usually quite understanding of things himself, and mother explains what he needs help getting, so I don’t really have to cover for anyone Prince or I bring in. He also almost exclusively hires members of the Lgbtq community and pays them well, Living with us or not. I’ve been raised in a pretty accepting environment, so… yeah, nobody’s going to kick you out. You can rest safely.”

Emperor then moves to put the materials he cleaned away. Vintage watched him, and mumbled, “So… you just live like that, huh? Never uncomfortable… or having to hide.”

“Well, there was once a time where things were like that. Back when dad wasn’t his most fatherly looking and his husband hated people who loved or displayed differently than a so-called god intended. Prince, a few servants and I banded together and convinced dad to choose us over a hateful guy. And once the servants explained some more and Prince and I got truly comfortable expressing ourselves, father decided to become closer to his true self too. The rest is history… but uh, you probably didn’t ask for the whole history, did you?” Emperor explained.

“It’s whatever…” vintage replied. This place was an odd wonderland indeed…

“Anyways… would you feel safer sleeping with me?” Emperor asked, leaning back against the sink, “I could understand the idea behind it - if the enemy somehow breaks in we’d be closer and be able to fend them off together much easier. But anywhere you go, I’ll assure you you’re pretty safe.”

“W-well, you have guest rooms!” Vintage says, face blushing cyan-red, “it’s not like there’s just one bed, or anything…”

“Well, there is.” Emperor said, “In each room.” 

Vintage facepalms and says, “Okay, your brain’s shutting off too. Just bring me to your guest room or whatever, I don’t really care as long as I get decent sleep!” 

“Alright then. Follow me, I’ll take your bag to it too.” Emperor says. 

They head back into his room, and Emperor picks up Vintage’s weapon case. Or well, he grabs the strap and it doesn’t budge from the ground. Vintage watches in amusement as Emp tries several times to pull it up.

“It’s… a bit heavy…” Emperor says, looking a bit frustrated.

“It’s a splatling class made to look like a color choice pen. Of course it’s heavy, idiot.” Vintage responds.

He walks over as Emperor continues his gentlemanly struggle, and Vintage picks it up with little to no effort. He smirks at Emperor’s awe.

“You can carry it with me if you feel like it. My hands are recovering after all and an extra pair of hands takes the pressure off. Even if those extra hands are wimpy.” Vintage teases.

“I’ll still help. And excuse you but I can at least carry another Inkling if I had to!” Emperor claimed in his defense.

“Just one?” Vintage taunted. 

“Sadly. Looks like i’ll have to try and increase that number to match, then.” Emperor said, pouting. 

“Depending on where our quest takes us, who knows if you’ll get that chance?” Vintage retaliates. 

Emperor rolled his eyes while Vintage smirked, hiding a laugh and shocking the taller inkling all over again as he carried the case one-handed. The two make it into the extra guest room, and plop Vintage’s case down by the bed.

“Hope you don’t mind black and gold bedding.” Emperor says.

“It’s fine. They’re dream colors.” Vintage stated.

“...I wonder what sort of dreams you have.” Emperor replied.

After Emperor once again made sure Vintage was comfortable, Emperor left him to himself for the night. Vintage sat back on the bed and was amazed by how he just sunk into the covers. It was softer than he ever thought possible, and suddenly he was angry that this was his only night to enjoy it. Lying on his back wasn’t even bothersome - the bed was as soft as a cloud. He let himself sink comfortably into the material, simply lying back and staring at the ceiling. He even had a TV in here…

But he didn’t need it on. He was tired, it was late, and having the light off with the large windows being his only light was an amazing experience all by itself. He found himself staring out the large windows, looking at the city lights far off in the distance, and the little light of stars twinkling on this full moon night, putting what he could see of the maze of gardens in a lovely twilight glow. He wanted to stare at it for longer, but his eyelids felt heavy.

Vintage found himself completely relaxed, and soon fell into a deep sleep…

For the very first time in a long, long time, Vintage had begun to dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> destroying dysphoria wardrobe really just feels cathartic. i wish i could do that to things... 
> 
> also Emperor is tender on the inside and you cannot change my mind. he just has a lil case of blue team brain here and there.
> 
> Also Emp's dad pays for top surgery for any employees that need it cuz i said so! enjoy your holiday.


End file.
